
Glass 
Book 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



I MARRIED A SOLDIER 



OR 



OLD DAYS IN THE OLD ARMY 



BY 



LYDIA SPENCER LANE 









M 







^ PHILADELPHIA 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 
: 1893 



79 57^, 






Copyright, 1892, 

BY 

J. B. LippiNcoTT Company. 



Printed by J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia. 



PREFACE. 



In sending forth this account of incidents in my 
army Hfe, I claim for it no literary merit; I have 
simply given facts without any attempt to elaborate 
them. 

First intended for my children and grandchildren, 
I afterwards thought this narrative might be accept- 
able to army friends, and to many of a younger gen- 
eration who are interested in the old army. 

To the former the scenes described may awaken 
long-forgotten experiences in their own lives ; to the 
latter it will carry the conviction that they will never 
be called upon to endure what we did. 

To-day there is no " frontier ;" the wilderness 
blossoms as the rose ; our old deadly enemy, the 
Indian, is educated, clothed, and almost in his right 
mind ; railroads run hither and yon, and the great 
trains of army wagons and ambulances are things 
of the past, whatever civilization may follow. 

The hardy, adventurous element in those early 
pioneer days will ever possess an interest of its own, 
and I venture to hope that the record of my own 
experiences will contribute somewhat to the history 
of those heroic times. 

August i8, 1892. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER 

OR 

OLD DAYS IN THE OLD ARMY 



" And so they were married," and this is how the 
marriage notice read ; / 

"In Carlisle, Pennsylvania, May i8, by the Rev- 
erend Merwin Johnson, Lieutenant William B. Lane, 
U.S. Mounted Rifles, and Lydia Spencer, youngest 
daughter of the late Major George Blaney, U.S. 
Engineer Corps" (or words to that effect). 

The ceremony was short, the marriage feast not 
elaborate, and after it was over, the farewells spoken 
amid hearty good wishes for our future happiness, 
we started for Jefferson Barracks, Missouri, where 
Lieutenant Lane was to be stationed. Travelling at 
that time was not as rapid as it is now, and several 
days passed before we reached the end of our jour- 
ney; but it was over at last, and, until our quarters 
were ready (two rooms), we were kindly entertained 
by Major and Mrs. Charles Ruff, Mounted Rifles. 
Our housekeeping was on the smallest scale, as we 
were to remain but a short time at Jefferson Barracks. 

We messed with the young officers. It was a sad 
and anxious summer for us all. Cholera was epi- 
demic, and scarcely a day passed that we did not 

I* 5 



6 . / MARRIED A SOLDIER, 

hear the solemn notes of the " Dead March." Often 
there were two or three funerals in the twenty-four 
hours. 

The victims were principally among the soldiers. 
Only two of our friends died : the wife of the late 
Dr. J. B. Wright, U.S.A., being one of them, and the 
other, Lieutenant Ferdinand Paine, who was ill but 
a few hours. He had gone on as officer of the day, 
in the morning ; at midnight he was dead. 

Lieutenant Paine had an Indian boy with him, 
whom he had brought from Oregon. The boy was 
extremely ill with cholera, and Mr. Paine nursed 
him faithfully, which, possibly, was the cause of his 
own illness and death. It required more than a col- 
lapsed case of cholera, it seemed, to kill a Digger 
Indian. He recovered ; his master died. 

The boy was learning to wait on the table, at the 
mess. One morning, when he handed me a plate 
of cakes, I asked if they were hot. He took the 
shortest way to find out, by laying his hand on top 
of the pile ! " Yes, sir," he said ; but I did not take 
any cakes that morning. 

Captain (afterwards Major-General) Hancock and 
his wife were at Jefferson Barracks that summer. 
He had just been appointed captain in the Quarter- 
master's Department. I did not meet him again 
until after the war, and was much surprised and 
pleased to find he remembered me; his memory 
was better than that of . some of our old army 
acquaintances; after they had risen in the world, 
they " forgot the days of small things." 

After a stay of three months at Jefferson Barracks, 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 7 

we packed up our very few worldly possessions and 
left for the East, making a side trip to Kentucky, en 
route to visit our Southern relatives, and where I 
knew I would see many things I never saw before; 
and I did, — different manners and customs, different 
people, from any I had ever known. How kind and 
hospitable they all were ; how they wanted to enter- 
tain us, and give us all they had ! Some old family 
servants walked miles to see " Massa Will's young 
wife." 

We went direct to Carlisle, Pennsylvania, from 
Kentucky, to await the return of cool weather, when 
we were to join the regiment, then stationed in 
Texas. It was unsafe to go South before there was 
sufficient frost to destroy the germs of yellow fever ; 
but we went too early, after all. 

About the middle of October orders were re- 
ceived for Lieutenant Lane to accompany a large 
party of officers and recruits, going to Texas. So 
we set off immediately for New York, and joined the 
command on board the good ship " Middlesex," 
Captain Parmelee. When I was hoisted up on 
deck, I found, among other friends, General Sylves- 
ter Churchill, who was making an inspection of the 
ship and troops. The first thing I did was to rush 
at him, and he ran to me, gathered me up in his 
arms, and kissed me. When Lieutenant Lane ap- 
peared, he was much astonished to see what was 
going on ; though the dear old man had known me 
always, he had never seen Lieutenant Lane. Expla- 
nations followed, introductions were made, and peace 
in the family was restored. 



8 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

The ship proved to be an enormous sailing vessel, 
with ample accommodations for three hundred and 
sixty recruits, — some having wives and children, — 
besides several officers and their families. Among 
the officers were Colonel Sidney Burbank, Captain 
Ricketts, Zenas R. Bliss, not long out of West Point, 
I think, Dr. Albert Myer, who was afterwards chief 
signal-officer of the army, Lieutenant Lane and my- 
self, and possibly others whom I have forgotten. 

We sailed away bravely from New York, but one 
by one we left the deck, so roughly did old Neptune 
treat us. 

Most of us were lost to view before the land was 
out of sight. It was Saturday when we hoisted sail, 
and not until the following Thursday did I again 
appear at table ; the weather was rough and stormy, 
and — well, we had not much appetite. I found 
things in our state-room in dreadful confusion when 
I was well enough to look after our belongings. A 
huge bundle of Bibles had been stored under the 
lower berth, for what purpose I never knew, unless 
for distribution among the Texas heathen. My travel- 
ling-bag and a large bottle of wonderful hair-tonic 
were there, too, besides a quantity of candy for the 
voyage, and various other articles. Imagine all these 
things mixed together in a mass, — cork out of the 
bottle, candy melted by the contents of it, and the 
soft, sticky stuff spread over everything. The Bibles 
had broken bounds, and were in the thickest of it. 
With the assistance of the stewardess the debris was 
soon cleared away, and order restored. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 



II 

The days on board ship were often tedious, es- 
pecially along the Florida coast, where we were be- 
calmed for some days, and the heat was very great. 
The big ship lay almost helpless on the quiet waters, 
only rising and falling with the ocean swell, but no 
headway was made. We had become well acquainted 
with our travelling companions by that time, and we, 
with Dr. Myer and Mr. Bliss, being the youngest of 
the party, naturally drew close together ; hours we 
passed talking of home and our future, forming a 
friendship which we thought would be life-long ; but 
Zenas R. Bliss I have never seen since, and Dr. 
Myer became a great man, and forgot us, I suppose. 
I have still a small sketch of Hole-in-the-wall, on 
Abaco Island, drawn for me by Dr. Myer. As well 
as we could see from the ship, there was an immense 
hole in a rock, through which the water dashed with 
great violence. We also saw numbers of enormous 
green turtle, sunning themselves on the beach of the 
small islands in our course. Looking over the side 
of the vessel, I noticed masses of what I took to be 
rock, and was much alarmed, expecting the ship 
would be dashed to pieces ; but my fears were al- 
layed when told it was only sponge that I saw in the 
clear, green water. 

The monotony of the voyage was broken occa- 



10 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

sionally by the appearance of numerous little boats 
from the islands near by, manned by the natives, who 
had fruit, shells, and various curiosities for sale, and 
which they urged us to buy. We did invest in some 
very large sea-shells, never dreaming they were in- 
habited. A few days after we bought them a dread- 
ful odor came from the shells, and there was a burial 
at sea immediately. The occupant, deprived of his 
native element, died within his dainty pink walls, and 
was returned, though too late to benefit him, to the 
briny deep. 

But one death occurred on board the ship, and it 
was a soldier's child, almost a baby, that was taken. 
Every one was present on deck when the short 
funeral services were read over the little body, which 
had been securely wrapped in canvas and heavily 
weighted, that it might sink instantly when consigned 
to the watery grave. 

When all was ready, the remains were placed on a 
board, which was gradually slanted until the little 
white bundle slowly and surely approached the end 
of it. Finally, with a dull splash, all that was mortal 
of the poor baby disappeared in the quiet waters and 
was seen no more. The mother's agony was heart- 
rending, as she saw the ocean close over her darling, 
leaving no trace behind. 

We had been out from New York two weeks when 
we sighted the coast of Texas, but, as the weather 
was dark and tempestuous, the captain put back to 
sea, and it was several days before we again reached 
Aransas Pass. Arriving there, we left the big ship 
which had carried us safely through the troubled 



I MARRIED A SOLDIER, II 

waters. We were sorry to part with Captain Par- 
melee, who had done everything possible to make 
the voyage agreeable and comfortable. From the 
ship we were transferred to the " Josephine," an old 
steamboat well known to army people long ago. 
Before leaving the '* Middlesex," the captain gave me 
a St. Bernard puppy of almost pure breed, the mother 
and her litter coming with us on the ship from New 
York. He was a beauty, — jet black, with a white 
star on his forehead, — and we named him Parmelee, 
which we shortened, calling him Lee. 

Our voyage on the "Josephine" was not a long 
one, which we did not regret. While walking about 
the boat and looking around, I noticed, on the lower 
deck, a very much coiled and speckled mass, that 
attracted my attention immediately. I called the 
captain, and pointed it out, asking what it was. His 
answer was a cry of horror, and he yelled for " Tom, 
Jim, John, to come out with spades, axes, shovels, 
to kill that moccasin." It was one of the most 
poisonous snakes in that region, and its presence 
there was unaccountable. 

From the "Josephine," we were taken on to a 
" lighter," — a small schooner, I would call it, — which 
was to carry us to Corpus-Christi. There was only 
room on it for a few of the officers. Colonel Bur- 
bank and family. Lieutenant Lane and myself. Other 
transportation was provided for the soldiers, bag- 
gage, etc. 

We passed the night on the " lighter." I cannot 
say we slept. The accommodations were of the 
most contracted description, there being scarcely 



12 / MARK J ED A SOLDIER. 

room to stand upright in the hold, where Mrs Bur- 
bank, children, nurse, and myself were stowed away. 
We improved our time fighting roaches and other 
things, down below, while the officers spent the night 
on deck. We made the best of the situation, ind 
had a very funny time, astonishing our friends at )ve 
us with many a hearty laugh. They wondered w lat 
we found down in the depths to amuse us so muc i. 

Our breakfast next morning was not luxurious, 
— bread, very good, without butter, fried bacon, and 
coffee, but no milk. We were hungry, and accepted 
the simple fare most thankfully. 

We were to reach Corpus Christi about noon that 
day. By some means we heard, before we landed, 
that people were dying on every side from yellow 
fever. There had been no frost up to that time in 
Texas. Notwithstanding, the troops were sent dow^n 
from the North, regardless of the risk they ran, right 
into the midst of the epidemic then raging, and with 
a fair prospect of dying by hundreds from it. 

It was dreadful news to us, as there was no escape, 
no running away from it, nothing to do but land, 
take the risk, and trust in Providence. However, I 
had " gone for a soldier," and a soldier I determined 
to be. 

We found our camp ready for us, right on the 
beach, at Corpus Christi, — tents pitched for officers 
and men. They w^ere selected according to rank. 
By the time the young officers' turn came to secure 
one, it was Hobson's choice, — take what was left, or 
nothing. I heard, afterwards, a wall-tent had been 
pitched and floored for us especially ; but we only 



1 MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 3 

saw the outside of it. An unmarried officer, who 
had more rank than Lieutenant Lane, and an eye to 
comfort, appropriated it immediately. 

We were put into a large hospital-tent, with an 
opening at each end, which could be closed when 
necessar}'. We had no board-floor in it, and only 
the sands of the sea for carpeting. 

I went into the tent with a heavy heart, for I 
expected nothing less than an outbreak of yellow 
fever in the camp. Indeed, the situation was gra\'e 
enough to alarm any one ; but the very first night 
we spent ashore a violent norther struck the coast, 
and the weather became very cold. A heavy frost 
was the result, and not another case of fever was 
reported in the town ; but many of those then ill 
died, in consequence of the sudden change in the 
temperature. 

We were very happy, of course, having escaped 
the awful disease, and began cheerfully to make 
preparations for the march we had before us to Fort 
Inge, Texas, to which post Lieutenant Lane had 
been assigned. 

One night, during the norther, the wind blew a 
hurricane, and our tent was torn open at both ends. 
Between the pounding of the waves on the beach, 
the shrieking of the wind, and the flapping of the 
canvas, the noise was fearful ; and I expected to be 
blown bodily out to sea. With the assistance of 
some soldiers, after a violent struggle, the tent was 
made secure, and we managed to live in our uncom- 
fortable quarters until we left Corpus Christi. 



14 / MARRIED A SOLDIER, 



III 

We had an Irishman, who had gone with us from 
Cariisle; very honest and good, though entirely- 
green as to any knowledge of cooking ; but really 
not much more so than I was, in those early days, 
and I was to teach him what I did not know myself! 
We went to work together, to cook the meals, which, 
necessarily, were of the simplest description. 

I knew how things ought to look and taste, but 
did not understand just how to prepare them. For 
a time, I believe, we were obliged to eat soldiers' 
rations, — only hard tack, fried salt pork, and coffee 
without milk, and I honestly tried to enjoy them, set 
out as they were on top of the mess-chest. An 
empty candle-box and a bucket turned upside down, 
served as seats round this humble board, until we 
could get into the village, to make a few purchases 
of such articles as we needed to take up the country 
with us. We found in the shops what answered very 
well for army life at that remote period; but a 
second lieutenant nowadays would not consider 
our best things sufficiently good for his kitchen. 

Transportation was very limited, and we were only 
allowed room enough for articles absolutely neces- 
sary. The bachelor officers often came to the relief 
of married men, giving up the space in a wagon to 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 5 

which they were entitled for their use, so that we 
generally found a place for all we wanted to carry. 

Those were the days before railroads were even 
dreamed of in that far-away country. Everything 
was carried from the coast of Texas in wagons 
drawn by mules or oxen. Strangers arriving at 
Galveston, Indianola, or Corpus Christi had not 
much choice in the matter of conveyance for con- 
tinuing their journey into the interior of the country. 
An ambulance, a horse, or a mule made up the 
assortment, and if he could not decide on one of 
these modes of travel, he must walk, or stay where 
he was. Some of those obliged to remain would 
almost have been willing to walk, for the sake of 
getting away from those little towns, as they were 
then. 

All preparations were at last made for our march, 
the orders given to pack wagons and strike tents. 
An ambulance was provided for the ladies and 
children, — only one, — where, I was sorry to find, I 
was to ride daily. Many a weary hour I passed in 
it, with only space enough to sit bolt upright, when 
I was not diving under the seat for the family lunch- 
box, which was brought out six or eight times a day 
for the children. The mother and nurse were stout, 
and it was a serious matter for either to get down 
on the floor and drag out the box. I was young 
and slender, and was not supposed to have any 
objection to jumping up and down, whenever the 
children said they were hungry. I did object, but 
behaved very well, and tried to look amiable. 

We travelled from Corpus Christi to the western 



1 6 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

frontier through a dreary, desolate country, where 
nothing lived but Indians, snakes, and other venom- 
ous reptiles, and I expected to see some dreadful 
thing whichever way I turned. I never went to bed 
without making a thorough search for a snake, taran- 
tula, or centipede ; but in all the years I spent travel- 
ling and camping, I never saw a snake about the 
tents, and very {q^n poisonous insects, either, so that, 
as time went on, and I did not find the thing for 
which I watched, I grew careless, but not on that 
first expedition, where all was so new to me. 

By the time we left Corpus Christi the St. Bernard 
puppy was growing fast, and, of course, with his 
cunning ways, was a great pet with everybody. He 
was put into our wagon, on leaving camp, where 
there was some one to look after him. But one day 
the watchman went to sleep, and our poor puppy 
crawled out of the wagon, fell under the wheels, and 
was killed instantly. There were great sorrow and 
indignation in the camp when it was known Lee was 
dead, and the soldiers who pitched our tents would 
not allow the man who had charge of him to come 
about the place. I cried all day for my puppy, and 
never would have another. 

Mike, the Irishman, and I were beginning to know 
something of cooking by this time. The viands were 
of the plainest. We did not attempt any dish that 
required much skill to prepare. As we had nothing 
in the way of bread but hard-tack, we learned to 
make biscuit. Our first effort was a failure, — spoiled 
in the baking. We had only a " Dutch oven" in 
which to cook bread or meat, and experience was 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1/ 

absolutely necessary to know just how hot to make 
it. Mike burned the first batch to a coal, turned it 
over, and baked the other side.. Nothing daunted, 
I kept on until, between us, we could make most 
excellent pounded biscuit. 

After the camp was in order for the evening, and 
supper over, Mike carefully washed off the top of 
the mess-chest inside, and I made biscuit for the 
next day. When the dough was prepared, I pounded 
it well with a long-necked bottle, the neck serving 
as a handle, which answered the purpose very well. 

Often, while the bread-making was going on, we 
were joined round the camp-fire by Dr. Myer and 
Mr. Bliss, and many a hot biscuit they ate, with mo- 
lasses, from a tin plate. Judging from the rapidity 
with which the biscuits disappeared, they must have 
been very good, indeed. I wonder if Colonel Bliss (it 
is now) would remember those evenings beside the 
camp-fire? Many years after, I met General Myer 
in Washington, and discovering, in a few moments, 
how very short his memory was, I brought up some 
incidents of the journey, such things as no one would 
likely forget. I asked if he recollected how he and 
Mr. Bliss ate hot biscuit and molasses. His reply 
was that he " remembered the march, but not the 
biscuit and molasses." Poor man ! he is dead now. 

We travelled along very slowly, but, to most of 
us, it was a new experience, and not at all unpleasant. 

We were glad when we approached Fort Mcintosh, 
Texas, for several officers of the Mounted Rifles 
were stationed there, and we were sure of a hearty 
welcome and hospitable entertainment. The day we 

b 2* 



1 8 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

were expected at the post, several of the officers 
rode out to meet us, — W. L. Elliott and Roger Jones 
among them, — and greeted us warmly. We were 
driven at once to the house of the commanding 
officer, W. W. Loring, colonel Mounted Rifles. 

Captain W. L. Elliott (afterwards major-general) 
and Lieutenant Roger Jones (afterwards inspector- 
general of the army) messed with Colonel Loring, 
and we enjoyed our few days' visit to them very 
much. I was treated wath great consideration, being 
the youngest and latest bride in the regiment. The 
change from camp life and camp fare was extremely 
pleasant to us, and we would have liked to remain 
longer than we did. It would also have been agree- 
able to our friends, I think, to have us with them. 
It was seldom any one came to their isolated post. 
No one travelled in that direction for amusement in 
those days. Nothing but stern necessity and duty 
took people to such a desolate place, so, when 
strangers did arrive, they were kindly welcomed and 
entertained. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 9 



IV 

I WAS much pleased when our kind friends at 
Fort Mcintosh told me that, when we left, I should 
have an ambulance for myself; so I was perfectly- 
independent in future, and had all the room I wanted. 
They did not forget, either, to put into it many tokens 
of remembrance, such as luncheon, champagne, 
books, etc. 

We said good-by with much regret, when the day 
came to leave, everybody had been so hospitable 
and kind, not only to us, but to all the officers in the 
party. 

The march was resumed in the same deliberate 
way; the soldiers were on foot, and we had to keep 
pace with them ; hours and hours we were, making 
the daily distance of ten or fifteen miles between 
camps. We halted frequently to rest the men and 
mules, and then the ladies and children would gladly 
get out of the ambulances, and perhaps walk along 
the road for a change ; but we dared not get away 
from the command. It was certain the Indians were 
never far off, and we kept very close to the soldiers. 

In due course of time we reached Fort Duncan, 
on the Rio Grande. It was a wretched place to live 
in, and I am sure some of our companions who were 
to remain there looked on their future station with 
sinking hearts when they saw it for the first time. 



20 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

Lieutenant R. W. Johnson took charge of us, and 
had a tent pitched for our use in his yard, not 
having a spare room in their house. We took our 
meals with them, which was a real treat. He and 
Mrs. Johnson made us very comfortable for two or 
three days before we started for our own station, 
Fort Inge. 

R. W. Johnson is now retired as major-general 
U. S. Army, and is a wealthy resident of St. Paul, 
Minnesota. I met him quite recently, and he had 
not forgotten our visit to Fort Duncan, so long ago. 

One of the officers stationed at Fort Duncan at 
that time was Abner Doubleday ; his wife was with 
him, a pretty, refined woman, andj she was more 
afraid of a mouse than anything in the world. I 
remember she had a frame fixed all around her bed 
and covered with netting to keep them out. j She 
did not seem to dread snakes at all, nothing but an 
awful mouse ! 

All those with whom we had travelled from " the 
States" remained at Fort Duncan, to their regret. 
We parted from our friends sorrowfully, and with an 
escort of soldiers left for Fort Inge. 

During the first day's travel we came across a 
camp, where we found some old friends and dined 
with them. They were Captain and Mrs. McLean ; 
she was Margaret, daughter of General E. V. Sum- 
ner, U. S. Army. They were comfortably fixed in 
tents, and seemed satisfied. 

Quite a curious thing had happened to her, just 
before we met. The tents had shelters made of 
branches of trees (or bushes), to keep off the sun. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 21 

built over and around them, which extended out like 
a porch, making a pleasant shade. Mrs. McLean 
was sitting sewing one day, with her back to the 
shelter, and as she drew out her needle her hand 
came close to the brush, when a snake darted out 
and bit it. Naturally, they were much alarmed ; but 
the proper remedies were applied at once, and no 
bad results followed. She sat farther away next 
time. 

We were three or four days, if I am not mistaken, 
going from Fort Duncan to Fort Inge, and were 
glad to reach the place, forlorn as it was. The post 
was dilapidated ; but the surroundings were far 
more agreeable than at either Fprt Mcintosh or Fort 
Duncan. A beautiful little river, the Leona, ran 
just behind the quarters, which were built of logs, 
and almost ready to tumble down. We moved into 
a vacant house of four rooms ; the kitchen was be- 
hind it, and was in an advanced stage of decay. A 
high wind might easily have blown it over. 

Our supply of furniture was not sufficient even for 
four rooms. We had taken out with us two carpets, 
and enough pretty chintz for curtains in two rooms ; 
six hard {so hard/) wooden chairs, bought in Corpus 
Christi, and called " Windsor chairs," — why, I don't 
know, — a bedstead, centre-table, a cooking-stove, 
which was about the most valuable and highly 
prized of all our possessions, and a few other articles 
of the plainest description. We were well provided 
with good china, glass, house-linen, and silver. We 
had all we wanted, and were very happy. 

The pay per month for a first lieutenant of 



22 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

Mounted Rifles was ninety-three dollars! — vast 
wealth, it seemed to me. More would have been 
useless, for there was nothing to buy, — no stores 
nearer than San Antonio, — so that the commissary 
bill was the only one we owed monthly, except 
servants' wages and one to the laundress, and we 
saved money. The commissary furnished only 
necessary articles of food at that time, such as, 
coffee, flour, sugar, rice, ham, and pork, which list 
of eatables did not offer much to tempt the appetite ; 
the day of canned meats, vegetables, and fruits was 
not yet. 

Butter, eggs, and chickens were brought to the 
post sometimes from the ranches, eighteen or 
twenty miles away, the owners running the risk of 
being murdered by the Indians every trip they 
made. 

Game was very abundant, and almost at our door ; 
deer, turkeys, partridges, and ducks could be found 
right round the post, while the lovely clear stream 
that ran just back of the house was filled with mag- 
nificent black bass, which were easily caught. 

Behind the quarters, and extending to the river, 
was a grove of fine old live-oak trees, and many an 
hour we passed fishing under their shade, I for min- 
nows to bait the hooks for bass ; and in a few minutes 
I caught enough to supply the fishermen, who only 
condescended to catch the game fish in a scientific 
manner, with rod and reel. Fine sport they had, 
the bass taken often weighing six and eight pounds. 

We became very tired of all the fine game, and 
would have welcomed a good beef-steak as a luxur\'. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 23 

There were so few soldiers at the post that beef was 
issued only once or twice a month, and was really a 
treat. 

It was fortunate for us there was such a supply of , 
game, for, almost from the day we began housekeep- 
ing, we had guests to entertain, — people passing from 
one post to another, — and we had more than our 
share of them. When meat was not to be had, an 
Jiour's fishing and hunting gave us all we required. 
We had no vegetables except rice, hominy, and beans. 
Macaroni was a stand-by, but we had to send to San 
Antonio for it. 

Mike, with the help of my old family receipts, had 
become quite a good plain cook, and was kept busy 
with our numerous guests. The first one on the 
list was a Texas Ranger, Captain Walker. I suppose 
he was a militia-man, employed by the government 
to look after Indians on the Western frontier. 

Our Httle centre-table was the only one we had, 
and did not answer very well for three people to sit 
at and hold the various dishes at dinner; some 
rested on the floor, others on chairs, but this did not 
have the least effect on the captain's healthy appetite. 
It was all we could do, so we did not apologize. 

We became very weary of entertaining people of 
whom we knew nothing ; but there was no hotel nor 
house of any kind where they could go, so the officers 
felt themselves obliged to look after their comfort 
and take them in. 

I remember one very cold night, at Fort Inge, we 
heard the rattle of an ambulance coming into the 
garrison, then stop at our house. First an elderly 



24 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

woman stepped out, then a fat man, followed by two 
young men. As no one came forward to help us 
entertain these citizens, we had to do the best we 
could for them. We were only able to provide a bed 
for the old couple, and the young men slept in the 
ambulance. 

Our supply of bedding was very limited, outside 
of what we needed for ourselves. Our only mattress, 
pillows, and blankets were laid on the parlor floor 
for the lady and her husband, while we shivered all 
night on a straw under-bed and such miscellaneous 
covers as we could gather up. We gave our visitors 
all we had, but I do not think they ever felt grateful 
for what we did. They almost ruined our best 
carpet, during their stay, by spilling something on 
it, and trying to wash out the stain. We never saw 
them after they left, and did not remember their 
enforced visit with much pleasure. We had the 
honor, that winter, of entertaining a young German 
baron. He certainly did not return to the Father- 
land with the idea that the officers of the United 
States Army lived very luxuriously, after staying at 
our quarters and dining at our frugal board. 

Fort Inge was a one-company post, commanded 
by Captain Thomas Duncan, Mounted Rifles. Later 
in the winter, Colonel George B. Crittenden, Mounted 
Rifles, took command, and Doctor Howard, of San 
Antonio, was sent to look after the sick. Mrs. Dun- 
can and myself were the only ladies at the post. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 2$ 



V 

In February husband was granted a short leave 
of absence, and we made a visit to San Antonio, and 
Austin, where Dr. R. N. Lane, my brother-in-law, 
was practising medicine, and well known to many 
army people. 

We left Fort Inge in an ambulance, with no escort ; 
Mr, Lane and the driver were supposed to be a suf- 
ficient guard through a country where there were 
some small settlements and a house to sleep in every 
night. 

At the end of the first day's ride, we found Dhanis, 
a small German settlement, where one Mr. Finger 
kept a house for wayfarers. The ladies' bedroom — 
there seemed to be but one — was small, with a low 
ceiling, stone floor, and large, open fireplace. The 
furniture consisted of a bed, wash-stand, some ex- 
tremely uncomfortable chairs, and a small table, on 
which our meals were served. With a big fire of 
dry logs, we felt quite content, after being in the 
cold wind all day. The fare was simple, but not 
bad, and, with healthy appetites, we enjoyed the 
novelty of the situation. 

In all my wanderings I have never come across 
another such bed as that ! It was shaped just like 
an egg, and we had to cling like bats to stay in it at 
all, and had very little rest. I am sure Mr. Finger 

B 3 



26 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

would have been surprised had we told him the bed 
was uncomfortable. The ladies' chamber was, I 
think, the pride of the house. Men were put to 
sleep in a room that opened into the stable, and an 
army officer told me he awoke suddenly one morn- 
ing, and, on looking up, saw a horse's head just 
above his own. 

The next stop we made was at Castroville, where 
we found quite a nice house kept by a quaint old 
French woman, — Madam Tardee, — well patronized 
by army people at that time. The house was clean, 
and the fare better than one would expect. The bed- 
rooms, up-stairs, were divided by canvas partitions, 
and we had to whisper if we did not want to be 
heard all over the house. Later on we found canvas 
played a conspicuous part in the building of Texas 
houses. Sometimes one whole side would be made 
of it, the occupants intending, " some day," to re- 
place it with more substantial material. 

On the third day we drove into San Antonio, 
stopping at the Plaza House, then the best hotel in 
the town. It was on the main Plaza, not far from 
the Cathedral. San Antonio was more Mexican 
than American then, and the foreign style of archi- 
tecture interested me very much ; also the gardens, 
filled as they were with tropical trees and unfamiliar 
plants and flowers. 

After resting at San Antonio, we drove to Austin, 
taking three or four days to make the distance. We 
found some very pleasant, cultivated people at Austin, 
among them Miss Annie Swisher, whom Dr. Lane 
eventually married ; a brighter woman I never met 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER, 2/ 

anywhere. Tom Ochiltree, the celebrated, was at 
that time an Austin society-man. 

In two weeks our leave was up, and we left for the 
Western frontier. We travelled two days, without 
incident or trouble, from San Antonio towards Fort 
Inge. Though the drive on the third day was long 
and tedious, we hoped to reach the post soon after 
dark. The roads were heavy from recent rains ; any 
one at all familiar with the black and sticky Texas 
mud can understand the meaning of " heavy roads." 
Evening came upon us when we were still many 
miles from the fort. The mules showed signs of 
giving out, and the prospect of reaching home that 
night was anything but bright. 

Husband and the driver held a consultation on 
the situation ; it was certain the mules could travel 
no farther. The driver thought there was a place 
not far off the road, where we might be allowed to 
spend the night ; so we turned into a dim path, fol- 
lowing it until we came to the house. It was so 
dark by this time we could scarcely see where we 
were going; but the door was found at last, and, 
after thundering on it with tremendous force time 
and again, a voice called out, " What do you want ?" 
Husband answered, " To stay all night." " You 
can't do it." " But we must ; there is a lady here, 
our mules are broken down, and we cannot go on." 
** That makes it worse ; having a lady, you can't 
stay." More parleying followed, when finally a 
reluctant consent was given for me to go into the 
house, and the door was opened. As the driver 
turned the ambulance into the corral, a voice called 



28 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

to him ** to be careful, as there was a bit of a bank 
near," which in the morning we found to be a sheer 
descent of at least two hundred feet to the river 
below, and we had gone close to the edge in the 
night, never dreaming of its vicinity ! 

We were taken into a small room, where a fire of 
big logs burned brightly. By the light of it I stud- 
ied the owner of the voice who had talked in the 
darkness to us. It was a superb-looking old man I 
saw, with snow-white beard to his waist. His mild, 
benevolent face gave me confidence at once, and his 
manner was kind and gentle. 

There were several awkward girls and young men 
in the room, who were his children, he told us. 
Without asking permission, the old man mixed me a 
drink of whiskey and honey, which I dechned ; but 
he insisted so much on my tasting it, I did so, rather 
than hurt his feelings. One of the girls was pre- 
paring supper for us, of which we were much in 
need, and when ready we did full justice to it, simple 
as it was, — corn-bread, bacon, and coffee, but no 
butter nor milk. 

In the course of the evening, one of the sons, 
recently married, came in, leading his bride by the 
hand. Her appearance was so ludicrous I could 
not repress a smile. Her frock came about to her 
knees, and below it appeared pantalettes to her heels. 
A large sun-bonnet, entirely concealing her face, 
completed her costume. 

When time came to retire, we found we were to 
share the common sleeping-room of the family, there 
being no other. Indeed, we were fortunate to have 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 29 

a bed to ourselves ! Besides the one given to us 
were several others, which were filled by two old 
men, two young men, two girls, and two boys, — ten 
people in one small room ; only three were women, 
of whom I was one ! 

There was no sleep for me that night. It turned 
out the old men had been to a horse-race the day 
before, and they were going over it in their dreams, 
shouting and swearing incessantly. My faith in the 
patriarchal-looking old man was destroyed as I 
listened to his loud and angry voice while he slept. 
I lay watching for the dawn, and could plainly see 
the stars through the cracks in the roof. As they 
disappeared and morning broke, we got up and made 
hasty preparations for departure, and, after paying 
for our night's lodging, we left, very thankful to 
escape from such a place. 

We heard, afterwards, the true character of these 
people. They were outlaws of the worst description ; 
but while we were under their roof they treated us 
well. 

Shortly before we stayed at their house one of 
the boys accidentally shot and killed his brother. 
Throwing down his gun, he exclaimed, " I have the 
damnedest luck of any fellow I know !" 

We were happy to reach Fort Inge and home the 
next day, and made no more expeditions until we 
left for Fort Clark. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 



VI 

The officers and soldiers stationed at Fort Inge 
were ordered to Fort Clark in the spring, and Inge 
was abandoned for several years. 

Fort Clark was a pleasant post, on the Las Moras 
River, within a day's drive of our old station. The 
change was very agreeable to us all, the garrison 
being a large one, with a number of officers and 
ladies. 

A funny little house had been put up for us before 
we arrived, all the quarters for officers being occu- 
pied. The walls were built of green logs with the 
bark left on them, and they were set up on end, — 
not like the usual log- cabin. The Mexicans call a 
house of that kind a "jacal" (pronounced hackai). 
The walls were seven or eight feet high, and sup- 
ported a slanting roof There was realh' but one 
room in the house, with an enormous chimney, 
built of stone, in the middle of it. The spaces be- 
tween the logs were chinked with mud, or plaster, 
perhaps, but that was all the plaster there was about 
it. We had no ceiling, — nothing but the shingles 
over our heads through the long, hot summer. On 
one side of the big chimney was the bedroom, on 
the other, a sitting-room. We had a porch at one 
end of the house, with a shelter of bushes to protect 
us from the sun, and we had also a room, some 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 3 1 

distance off, for a kitchen, where Mike set up his 
stove, and we were at housekeeping again. The 
kitchen floor was nothing but the ground, so there 
was no scrubbing to be done, — it could only be 
sprinkled and swept. 

In the summer Mike left us to work for the 
quartermaster. No one could be found to take his 
place but " French Josephine," a poor exchange, but 
we were glad to have any one. She gave us very 
little of her society or anything else, only coming 
home in time to prepare our very frugal meals. She 
knew the time of day by the bugle-calls, and often 
asked me, " Did stable-call went yet ?" 

Our little house was so far from the other quarters, 
I think the Indians could have crept in upon us, 
taken our scalps, and ridden away, without being 
molested. Nothing troubled us, however, but the 
field-rats and mice, which were there in numbers 
when we first occupied the house. They came into 
the room round the walls, where the boards of the 
floor were scooped out to fit the upright logs of 
which the house was built. All being green at first, 
they dried during the intensely hot summer, and 
very soon the floor and walls were far apart, so that 
the rats and mice came and went without ceremony. 
We saw a rat drag a small bottle of sweet-oil from 
one side of the room all the way across, and down 
under the floor on the other side. 

The rats and mice were bad, but we found a 
tremendous snake on the mantel-piece, and that was 
much worse. I was just about to retire one night, 
when we heard a suspicious rustling among some 



32 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

papers, and there he was, moving cautiously among 
them ; how it ever got up there we could not 
imagine. I fled out of doors, while husband killed 
it with his sabre. Another large one was killed in 
the brush at the end of the porch. Sometimes a 
skunl^ would pass the house, but never very close. 
He is a beautiful little animal to see ; but distance 
lends enchantment in his case. 

I must not forget to tell of the chicken-coop, 
built by the " lieutenant," at a great outlay, not of 
mone\', but of patience and temper. The material 
was oak barrel-staves, hard and dry, into which it 
was almost impossible to drive a nail. The builder 
started to work in the morning cheerfully, and anx- 
ious to complete the job. For a few moments the 
hammering went on vigorously; then the hatchet 
could be seen flying through the air into the chap- 
arral. Much time was spent hunting for it, but it 
seemed a relief to the wounded feelings (or fingers) 
to send the hatchet spinning into space, when it had 
come in contact with a thumb or finger. By the 
time the coop was finished there was not a sound 
one on either hand. 

In the fall our first daughter was born. I had no 
one to take care of her and me but husband and the 
doctor. The ladies of the garrison took turns dress- 
ing the baby, every day, as I could not trust the 
French girl to touch her. When she was three days 
old there was a violent storm, and the rain poured 
into the house through the crevices between the 
logs, out of which the plaster had long since fallen. 
We were covered over with blankets, to keep us dry, 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 33 

and did not suffer at all; but the situation was not 
pleasant for the mother of a three-days'-old baby. 
If that poor child had known of how many comforts 
she was deprived by coming into the world on the 
Western frontier, she would have been much ag- 
grieved, and, if it were possible, would have yelled 
louder than she did. My own experience was ex- 
tremely limited regarding the needs of a young baby ; 
but in after-years I knew the poor thing had been 
starved and half frozen, in consequence of which she 
cried for six months, and hardly slept day or night, 
the only means she had of showing she was badly 
treated. 

The day before Christmas we left Fort Clark for 
a second visit to San Antonio and Austin. The 
weather was like summer, and the evening was so 
warm in camp we were glad to get out of the tent 
for the air. By morning a stiff norther was blowing, 
and water in a bucket in the tent froze to the bottom. 
It was bitter cold, and we were so anxious about the 
baby, fearing she might freeze to death. Our ambu- 
lance was better calculated for a summer ride than 
a journey on a freezing winter's day. Our driver. 
Biles by name, had begun very early in the morning 
to celebrate Christmas by taking a great deal more 
whiskey than was good for him, which he procured 
from some unknown source. As it was a warm day 
when we left Fort Clark, he, soldier-like, " took no 
thought for the morrow," and forgot his overcoat. 
We found out as soon as we started from camp that 
the man was too drunk to drive, and we had not gone 
far before he became unconscious. He was propped 



34 ^ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

Up on the front seat beside husband, who drove, and 
who occasionally administered a sharp crack over 
his head with the whip, to rouse him and keep him 
from freezing to death. I sat behind, with the baby- 
on my lap, completely covered with blankets to pro- 
tect her from the wind, and many an anxious peep I 
took to see how she fared, lest, while keeping her 
warm and excluding the cold air, I might smother 
her. 

There we were, travelling over the prairie, far from 
any settlement, with no escort, and a young baby 
and a helplessly drunken soldier to be cared for. It 
was an anxious day for us, and we were much re- 
lieved when, late in the afternoon, we could see the 
little town of Dhanis in the distance, where we 
would find a fire and the assistance we needed. 

A new house of entertainment had been built since 
our last visit. We were given a large, bare-looking, 
carpetless room, with an open fireplace, which, from 
some defect in the chimney, smoked dreadfully, and 
all the doors and windows had to be left open in 
consequence, so that we really regretted old Finger's 
guest-chamber, with the stone floor and egg-shaped 
bed. Biles recovered by the time we reached the 
house, and when the blankets were removed from 
the baby she was found to be as cheerful as possible, 
and seemed to enjoy the numerous volunteer nurses 
who came to my relief One especially she Hked 
extremely, — a girl with one leg shorter than the 
other, who held her in her arms and rose on the 
long leg, and then came down on the short one, all 
the time making a humming, grunting noise in her 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 35 

throat that seemed to charm the baby. We would 
have liked to keep her as nurse, but she could not 
leave her home. 

The next day we continued our travels, which 
were uneventful to the end. We were tired when 
we reached Austin, and glad to rest, and we re- 
mained some time with our kind friends at their 
pleasant home. 

When we returned to San Antonio, husband, 
much to our delight (or my delight, at least), was 
ordered to remain there on duty. We rented a 
small house, or rather two three-roomed houses 
together, where we lived until May. There were no 
communicating doors, so we had to go into the street 
to reach the sitting-room from our bedroom. The 
kitchen was by itself, in the yard ; but these incon- 
veniences were mere trifles. When we left Austin 
we took with us two black servants, a cook, and a 
small girl as nurse, who announced to me that her 
name was " Miss Indiana Maria Jane Walton ;" but 
whether she adopted the name, or it was given by 
her sponsors, I do not know. Her resources for 
amusement were wonderful, and she talked all day 
to the baby, who seemed to understand and admire 
her black face very much. She tied strings to the 
door-mat, put the baby on it, and took her to pay 
imaginary visits, the mat serving as a carriage, while 
Miss Walton herself, with long shaving curls hanging 
from her ears, was horse and chaperon at the same 
time, looking entirely serious and very important. 



36 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 



VII 

In May Lieutenant Lane was ordered to proceed 
to Fort Mcintosh, a twelve days' journey from San 
Antonio by wagons. It is now made in less than 
that many hours by the cars. We knew what to 
expect in the way of quarters, etc., as we had been 
there a few days when travelling from the coast to 
Fort Inge. The friends whom we left at Mcintosh 
were all gone, and their places filled by strangers, 
but they received us kindly, and we were soon quite 
at home. 

The heat was dreadful. The houses were mere 
shells, entirely exposed to the baking sun all day 
long. Not a green thing was to be seen but a few 
ragged mesquite-trees. Here and there a blade of 
grass attempted to grow in the scorching, sandy 
soil, but it was soon burned up by the hot sun. 

Back of our quarters was quite a large yard, but 
there was not a living thing in it, except tarantulas, 
scorpions, and centipedes, with an occasional rattle- 
snake for variety. As long as we left them undis- 
turbed they were harmless. I found a large tarantula 
by the house one day, and teased it with a stick. 
He stood up immediately .on his great hairy hind 
legs and showed fight, when I left him to amuse 
himself with the piece of wood, and got out of his 
way. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 37 

During that summer — 1856 — the regiment of 
Mounted Rifles was ordered to New Mexico, and 
we were soon on the move again, after having been 
about two months at Mcintosh. We left July 16, 
to join the troops at Fort Clark, from which point 
they were to begin a march of nearly one thousand 
miles, which would take them far into the fall to 
accomplish, being obliged to travel slowly to save 
the animals as much as possible through the hot 
weather. 

We arrived at Fort Clark on the 22d of July, and 
remained until the 27th, when, everything being 
ready, we left with one of the three columns into 
which the regiment was divided, and which were 
two or three days' travel apart. We had quite a 
comfortable " outfit" for a lieutenant and family, 
owning a pretty little ambulance and as fine a pair 
of large gray mules as one would wish to see. They 
could travel all day without — in sporting parlance — 
" turning a hair." On the first day out from Clark 
they fully demonstrated there was plenty of life in 
them. I was sitting on the front seat of the carriage, 
holding the reins, while husband was on the back 
one with the baby, when a riderless horse came 
rushing by. Away went the lively grays across the 
prairie, when the baby was quickly deposited on my 
lap, and a stronger hand than mine seized the reins 
and brought the frisky fellows round to the road, 
after a good run and looking none the worse for it. 

There were several ladies besides myself with the 
command, but we saw very little of each other those 
awful hot days. We broke camp, usually, at day- 

4 



38 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

light every morning, and tents were again pitched at 
noon, when we had little desire for anything but to 
get under shelter and stay there until the sun went 
down. Then, after enjoying the cool breeze, which 
nearly always came with the night in Texas, we were 
ready to retire. How well I remember the sweet 
evening air, laden, as it often was, with the fragrance 
of a little plant that covered the camp ground, and 
which bore a tiny yellow flower. As the wagons 
rolled over and bruised it, the air was filled with the 
delicious odor, which was the same as the lemon, 
verbena, or balm. I have often wondered why it was 
not utilized for making perfumery; perhaps it has 
been by this time. 

Bedtime came early in camp. By ten o'clock, or 
even before, lights were out, and nothing could be 
heard but the tramp of the sentinel, the rattle of the 
chains by which the mules were fastened to the 
wagons, and the steady munching noise made by the 
animals while chewing their corn. Frequently the 
coyotes came outside the camp and serenaded us 
with their dreary^ melancholy howls and barks, but 
we were too weary to be disturbed by them. All 
was peaceful, and it was hard to believe that behind 
that little rise, or clump of grass, Indians could 
easily watch what was going on, and be ready to run 
off any stray mule or horse that chanced to wander 
their way. 

There were several army posts along our route, 
and to arrive at one was a pleasant variety in the 
irksomeness of the long days. Camp Lancaster was 
the first we passed, — August 2, — and was the 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 39 

worst station I had seen in Texas, but the ladies I 
met at the post seemed cheerful and contented. We 
dined with Captain and Mrs. R. S. Granger. On the 
1 2th we reached Fort Davis, where the quarters were 
bad, but the surroundings very beautiful. We met 
with much kindness and hospitality everywhere we 
stopped, receiving presents of butter, eggs, milk, etc. 
No one knows, who has not been deprived of these 
necessities, what a luxury a little milk or a pat of 
butter becomes when unobtainable, which was usu- 
ally the case with us when travelling. Often, in 
Texas, when we tried to buy milk at a ranch, where 
there were thousands of cattle, there was not a drop 
to be had. The owners woulti not take the trouble 
to have it even for themselves. So you can under- 
stand how we enjoyed the numerous dainties sent us 
by friends as we wandered in the wilds of Texas. 

We made what was called a very quick journey to 
Fort Bliss, from Fort Clark, arriving August 27, 
•two days less than a month on the road. Now, one 
can be half around the world in that time, and we 
had only travelled between five and six hundred 
miles. Think of it ! 

When we struck some Mexican towns on the Rio 
Grande, below Fort Bliss, we were delighted ; it was 
so pleasant to see again green trees and grass, after 
having had, for so long, nothing but the Spanish 
bayonet and soap-weed on which to rest our weary 
eyes. 

I was constantly on the lookout for Indians, and a 
number of bayonet-plants together had given me 
many a scare, assuming in the distance almost any 



40 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

shape, — men on horseback and on foot. Some of 
them grow very tall, and the leaves, shaped much 
like a bayonet, stand out stiff and straight from 
the top of the tree. When it dies the spike-like 
leaves turn downward, covering the stalk to the 
ground. At the top of it the blossoms appear, first 
coming up in a solid mass, not unlike a conical- 
shaped cabbage-head. As it grows the flowers 
come out in rows of white bells, all attached to a 
thick stem, which is frequently eighteen inches high, 
perhaps more. The pretty, dainty flowers seem 
hardly to belong to the stiff, prim-looking tree. 

After having been deprived as long as we were of 
fruit and vegetables, it was delightful to find our- 
selves just in time for the delicious peaches and 
grapes, brought fresh from old Mexico, over the Rio 
Grande, every day to Fort Bliss. I spent hours 
over the camp-fire, in the broiling sun, preserving 
peaches for future use. I never enjoyed anything 
more in my life than those twelve days in our pretty 
camp on the Rio Grande, at Fort Bliss, and was so 
sorry when the orders said " move on." We laid in 
what fruit we could carry, chickens, etc., for the rest 
of the march. We had coops for the chickens, which 
were tied on behind the wagons, and after reaching 
camp the doors were opened and the poor things 
turned out. They never left the wagons, but went 
to roost on them at night, where they were caught 
and put back into the coops for an early start next 
day. 

Fort Fillmore, on the Rio Grande, was forty miles 
from Fort Bliss, and in New Mexico. Such a dreary- 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 4I 

looking place I have seldom seen ; but there were 
some Mexican settlements only a few miles off, which 
were quite accessible, and when the officers and 
ladies were tired of home they could go to see their 
Mexican neighbors. We stayed there part of a day 
to have the ambulance repaired, and dined with 
Lieutenant and Mrs. John D. Wilkins. 

At Fort Thorn we found some of the regiment in 
quarters, having been ordered to remain. We were 
delighted it was not to be our station, and were glad 
to leave. We remained in camp at the post for some 
time, awaiting orders. Near us were several dragoon 
companies (" troops," nowadays) in camp, and among 
the officers we found some ol'd friends, " Old Billy 
Grier" for one, whom everybody in the army knew 
and liked. 

Our next move was towards Fort Craig. We 
camped one night on ground covered with grease- 
wood, the roots of which are quite large and burn 
well, though too rapidly for comfort ; it was all the 
fuel we had. A severe storm of wind and rain set 
in that night, and by morning it was so cold I tried 
to stay in bed with the baby to keep warm. It was 
decided not to move that day, hoping by the next 
the weather would be clear. The baby was rather 
a restless young person to be shut up with in a tent, 
on a cold, rainy day. She did not approve at all of 
keeping under the covers, so we had sheet-iron pans 
filled with hot coals and ashes put into the tent to 
heat it, and, rolling up in shawls, we got up and 
were quite comfortable. All day, and the night fol- 
lowing, the floods came down, and husband con- 

4* 



42 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

eluded to move camp next morning. There was 
still no sign of clearing weather. We started ahead 
of the wagon-train, with a company of Mounted 
Rifles, Lieutenant Lane having been in command 
of Captain Thomas Duncan's company since leaving 
Fort Mcintosh. Captain Duncan was on leave. 

We had a miserable time that day ; all our blankets 
and shawls in the ambulance were more than damp. 
When we came late in the evening to a suitable 
camp-ground, we sat in the ambulance waiting until 
we were exhausted for the rattle of the wagons ; but 
no such sound came to us, at least not from our 
train. 

The prospect was gloomy enough ; we had nothing 
to eat with us, and the soldiers were hungry and wet 
to the skin. After watching and hoping against 
hope that the wagons would certainly come after a 
while, a man rode into camp with the information 
that they were ten miles behind and up to the hubs 
in mud ! Pleasant prospect for such a night, — 
pouring rain, and no provisions ! We were in a 
grove of cotton-wood-trees, and the men soon started 
a big fire. It was unnecessary to be cold, even if 
wet and hungry. Just at the darkest moment a 
train of wagons was heard approaching, and it proved 
to be one going down the country empty. The 
wagon-master was able to supply the soldiers with 
rations for a meal, and we gladly accepted some 
bread, bacon, and coffee from their store, and felt 
wonderfully cheered after a hot supper. They fur- 
nished us with candles, also. 

The prospect for a night's rest was bad ; though 



/ MAA'A'/Ji/J A SOLIJIHR. 43 

we were not actually out in the rain. The ambulance 
was too small to lie down in, so we sat up and lield 
the baby on our laps, turn about. Suddenly she 
;^ave one of those hoarse, croupy coughs, terrifying 
with the most comfortable surroundings ; but it was 
distracting, situated as we were, with every wrap 
more than moist, and thirty miles from a doctor or 
house of any kind. By some good fortune I had a 
few simple medifines in the ambulance. I lost no 
time in administering them, and the results were 
very gratifying. The night passed and we hailed 
the morning with joy. 



44 / MARRIED A SOLDIER, 



VIII 

As soon as it was daylight we decided that I with 
the baby and an escort must go on to Fort Craig, 
thirty miles away, to see the doctor, leaving husband 
to follow later with the company. The roads were 
bad, but we reached Craig early in the afternoon. 

Several officers of the regiment were already 
stationed at the post, among whom w^ere Colonel 
George B. Crittenden and Colonel Andrew Porter, 
so I was sure of meeting friends. But it never 
occurred to us that the fifty-seven consecutive hours 
of rain that had fallen might have inconvenienced 
the people at the fort, as well as ourselves. All we 
wanted was a dry, comfortable room for the baby. 
What was my dismay when I heard that the dirt roofs 
of the adobe quarters were leaking all over ! Mrs. 
Porter was quite ill, and the water was pouring into 
the room where she was in bed under a tent-fly, with 
an umbrella over her head! Colonel Crittenden's 
quarters were in the same building, and the rain 
streamed through the ceiling like a shower-bath ; but 
it was all he had to ofler, and, though everything was 
saturated in the room but the bed, we took it. The 
rain ceased towards night and large fires were built ; 
but the water still ran in from the roof I trembled 
for the baby when I saw where we were to stay, but 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER, 45 

under the doctor's care she improved at once. Pos- 
sibly living so long in tents had hardened us, and 
made us less liable to take cold; we were young, 
too, and not nervous. 

The " lieutenant," with the company, reached Craig 
late the day I arrived, and the soldiers went into 
camp just outside the fort. We remained in the 
quarters several days, taking our meals with Colonel 
and Mrs. Porter. She recovered before very long 
from her illness, and found plenty to do to restore 
order in her drowned-out apartments. 

The ground and tents having soon dried in the 
camp, we decided to leave the still wet walls of the 
adobe quarters, which we did, -and were pleased with 
the change, being much more comfortable. 

Whether it was camping on the Rio Grande or 
the days we spent in the wet room at Craig, I do not 
know, but I succumbed, while in camp, to an attack 
of chills and fever. One night, I remember, husband 
had to bring the doctor from the fort to see me. 
During his absence fever came on, and while lying 
looking up at the tent I saw a centipede five or six 
inches long, crawling just over my head. I watched 
it so intently that by the time he and the doctor 
came the thing had grown as large as an elephant to 
my fevered imagination, and I could only point to it 
in terror. It was quickly put out of the way. 

When I was able to move we broke camp and be- 
gan our travels toward Santa Fe, arriving October 9. 
Santa Fe, at that time, had but a small American 
population outside of army officers and their families. 
Mexicans and adobe houses were everywhere, and 



46 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

our surroundings could hardly have been more novel 
had we been dropped into Spain. We were most 
delightfully entertained while in the old city by Cap- 
tain and Mrs. Nicholls. She was a daughter of 
General De Russy, U. S. Army. 

Our station was to be Cantonment Burgwin, four 
days' march from Santa Fe, over a frightful road, if 
it could be called " a road." You may go to the 
foot of any mountain in your neighborhood, start up 
at any point regardless of stones, holes, or other 
impediments, and you will have an idea of ** the road" 
to Burgwin. In some places the wagons had to be 
let down with ropes, and nothing was thought of a 
drop of two or three feet, from one rock to another. 
Consequently, we were well shaken up and bruised 
and battered when the post was reached. 

The scenery was magnificent, but we could not 
enjoy it, owing to the roughness of the road. Did 
we allow our eyes to wander for a moment to the 
lofty mountains around us, we were forcibly reminded 
of the rocks and pitfalls in our path by a jerk or a 
wrench which dispelled our dreams and brought us 
rudely back to the immediate surroundings. We 
stayed at night in Mexican houses, using our own 
beds, however. Even then, as soon as the light was 
out we were nearly devoured by bugs, but that was a 
trifle compared to sleeping in a tent that cold weather. 

One night a little puppy got into our room, and 
made so much noise husband picked him up to 
put him out of doors. Puppy disliked this treatment, 
for he seized the thumb of the hand that held him 
and bit it. For years afterwards the skin peeled off 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 4/ 

the end of that thumb about the same month, whether 
in consequence of the bite I do not know, but such 
was the case. 

On the fourth day from Santa Fe we arrived at 
Burgwin, a very small post, most beautifully situated, 
being surrounded by high mountains. It was nine 
miles from Taos, New Mexico. We could stand at 
our door and talk to our opposite neighbor across 
the parade-ground without raising our voices. The 
quarters, though old and out of repair, were com- 
fortable ; they were built of rough pine logs ; an 
entry, with rooms on each side. 

We added a small Mexican girl to our corps of by 
no means efficient servants. Our efforts at conver- 
sation were necessarily strained, I not speaking 
Spanish, nor she English ; but we soon learned to 
understand each other with many gestures and a 
word here and there. It was her business to amuse 
the baby and wheel the little wagon, which she up- 
set occasionally ; consequently the poor child's small 
turned-up nose seldom had any skin on it while the 
seiiorita was nurse, which was not long. Our garri- 
son was a small one, — Major McCrea, with his wife 
and daughter, Lieutenant Alexander McD. McCook, 
Lieutenant Alexander McCrea, and ourselves were 
all the officers and ladies at Burgwin, except a con- 
tract doctor, who was drunk half the time, and not 
of much service. Fortunately it was a healthy place, 
and he had little to do. 

Husband had occasion to go to him for advice one 
morning, after suffering all night. The doctor looked 
seriously at him for some time, then said, in solenln 



48 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

tones, " Lane, the best thing you can do is to go 
home and to bed, until you are sober !" He had been 
on a spree himself, and imagined it was the other fellow. 

We had only been settled in our quarters a few 
days when we heard of the arrival at Fort Union, 
New Mexico, of a large number of officers and 
their families, who had just crossed the Plains from 
Fort Leavenworth with recruits for the various regi- 
ments in the Territory. Among the officers was 
Captain Washington L. Elliott, who had recently 
married my sister, who was with him. 

Of course the next thing to be done was for hus- 
band to go to Fort Union and bring her to Burgwin. 
She might hear the road was bad, but I knew she 
could have no conception of what it was like until 
she tried it, and then it would be too late to turn back. 

While I was alone at Burgwin, after husband had 
left for Fort Union, I had rather a disagreeable ex- 
perience. In garrison people hardly ever lock their 
doors, and even when they want to they find the 
locks broken or keys lost. I could fasten my bed- 
room door, for which I was thankful. I do not be- 
lieve there was another lock in the house in order. 

One night I was awakened by a knock on my 
door, which was repeated. I asked who was there. 
The answer was a request that **the lady would 
please open the door" and show a man the way out ; 
that he was drunk, had come in, and had lost him- 
self; that he would do the lady no harm if she 
would only open the door for him. Needless to 
say, the lady remained in her fortress, ordering him 
to leave immediately, or she would call the guard, 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 49 

which she could not have done, as the guard-house 
was some distance away. After stumbling around 
in the entry for a while, he left, but returned, later on, 
though he did not knock again. The man had sense 
enough to know he had been in an officer's house, 
but whose he could not tell, so he informed the sen- 
tinel. That was the only time I was ever molested 
by a soldier in all my army experience. I had always 
found them most polite and respectful. He was a 
good man, too, but had taken too much whiskey, 
which was not his habit. 

When Captain and Mrs. Elliott arrived it was de- 
cided that "the lieutenant" should exchange from 
Captain Duncan's company -to Captain Elliott's, 
leave Burgwin, and go to Hatch's ranch for the 
winter, and it was done. We packed up again and 
left, after a stay of only three weeks at Burgwin. 

I would like to tell of some of Lieutenant McCook's 
pranks at the little cantonment, but he is so very 
sedate now I would be afraid to do it. He was 
always happy and good-natured, and was known and 
liked by Mexicans as well as Americans. Poor Lieu- 
tenant McCrea was killed at the battle of Valverde, 
not far from Fort Craig, New Mexico, in the late war. 

On the 4th of November we left, taking the road 
to Fort Union, which was as bad as the one from 
Santa Fe ; it could not be worse. We were obliged 
to remain one day at Union, I being quite indisposed, 
from exposure on the mountains. When we reached 
the ranch, on the 9th, we found Captain Elliott's 
company of Mounted Rifles already in quarters, with 
Lieutenant John Edson in command, 
c d 5 



50 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 



IX 

When we saw the ranch we felt somewhat melan- 
choly at the prospect of spending the winter in such 
an isolated spot, so far from everywhere. 

It stood alone, on slightly rising ground,— a long, 
low, adobe house, with a high wall all around it, 
except in front. Mr. Hatch and his wife lived in one 
part of the building, and, with the exception of our 
own little party, were the only white people to be seen. 

We had just room enough to be comfortable ; but 
it was well we were one family, for we were very 
close together, and to have had strangers in the 
house would have been unbearable. There was no 
doctor nearer than seventy-five or eighty miles, so 
we tried to keep well. A Mexican man and his 
wife went about sometimes to officiate in particular 
cases. I had the luck to be present on one occasion. 
I think their performances would have made the 
scientific physicians of the present day open their 
eyes. Lieutenant Edson went on leave shortly after 
our arrival, and when we met again he had married 
lovely Fannie Clark. 

We passed a very quiet, though pleasant, winter; 
but we were by no means soriy when the company 
was ordered to Fort Union in the spring. The post 
seemed very gay to us, with the band and so many 
people. We had seen no one but each other for 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 5 I 

such a long time, we were quite bewildered with all 
the stir and bustle about us. The quarters being 
large enough to accommodate us all, we remained 
with Captain and Mrs. Elliott. 

In July I decided to take a leave and go East with 
the baby. Colonel Benjamin Roberts and family, 
with some discharged soldiers as escort, were taking 
advantage of an empty train of Mexican wagons, 
leaving New Mexico for Kansas City, to bring back 
a load of goods for all parts of the Territory. I 
joined the party. We were to have a great big ten- 
mule wagon in which we were to travel and sleep. 
Husband had a spring-bottom made for the floor, on 
which a mattress was laid, and we lived in the wagon 
about four weeks. Colonel Roberts had two wagons 
for his family. We messed with them, some of the 
discharged soldiers cooking for us. 

Husband travelled with us for a few days, to see 
that we were entirely comfortable, and then returned 
to Fort Union. 

The wagon-train was in charge of a Mexican 
wagon-master, and he alone decided where we were 
to camp and when to travel. It seemed to make no 
difference to him where he halted, nor whether wood 
and water were convenient or not. Sometimes, late 
in the afternoon, the wagons were driven off the 
road, corralled, and the mules sent to graze. We felt 
confident then we would stay there until morning. 
Our supper would be cooked and eaten with good, 
healthy appetites, though it usually consisted only 
of hot biscuit, fried bacon, coffee, and buffalo meat 
or other game, killed by the teamsters. 



52 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

At a very early hour we were quite ready for bed, 
and we would crawl into our wagons, have the covers 
well secured, and hope for a quiet night. Often just 
as I had fallen into a good sleep I was roused by a 
stir in the camp, the distant sound of the mules 
galloping towards the wagons, and the clatter of the 
bell on the neck of the herd-leader, a forlorn old 
gray mule with both ears cut off close to his head. 
When it rained the bell kept up a constant tinkle as 
the water fell into the holes which naturally should 
have been covered, and annoyed the poor creature 
very much, so that he wagged his head continually. 
I believe he had been captured from the Indians, who 
probably cut off his ears and ate them, to show 
how they loved him. The more agony the wretched 
beast suffered, the more his tormentors enjoyed it, 
only sorry he was not human. 

The noise made by the mules and the teamsters 
put an end to sleep. How they ever knew one mule 
from another in the darkness was a mystery to me ; 
but they seemed to, and in a shorter time than it 
takes to write it, each driver had his team harnessed, 
hitched to the wagon, and we were off for an all- 
night ride. Possibly by eight or nine o'clock next 
morning we would halt long enough to rest the 
mules and get breakfast, then start again. 

I never slept when we travelled at night; the 
wagon was rough, notwithstanding the spring bottom. 
As a rule the road was fine.; but I do not suppose 
the tired and sleepy driver was very careful to keep 
in it, so that we had many unnecessary jolts. 

One night we were travelling slowly, when it 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 53 

began to rain ; I was wide awake, listening to the 
patter of the drops on the wagon-sheet. I felt more 
than usually lonely and helpless, for, by some mis- 
take, there was a wagon between mine and the one 
occupied by Colonel Roberts's family ; so that, if I 
needed assistance, I could not be heard by them, call 
as loud as I might. Suddenly I was conscious that 
some one was untying the cover, which was always 
fastened down securely after I got into the wagon 
at night. Then by the dim light I could make out 
the figure of a man creeping in, and he sat down just 
at my feet. I did not make a sound, but quietly 
reached out my hand to a basket by my mattress, 
and took out a big butcher-knife, which I always 
kept there, — not for defensive purposes, however. 
The man sat perfectly quiet; but I thought he might 
murder us for the little we had, take a mule from the 
team, and escape. I certainly would have used my 
knife had he molested me, and I never took my eyes 
off him all night. When day dawned the man 
retired as noiselessly as he came, and proved to be 
the Mexican who drove my wagon. I lost no time 
in telling Colonel Roberts of my night's alarm, and 
another teamster was sent to take the place of my 
too friendly driver, who told the wagon-master he 
only wanted to get out of the rain. The mules had 
taken care of themselves all night, following the 
wagon ahead of them. 

In those days the whole country was covered with 
immense herds of buffalo ; there were thousands 
and thousands of them ; yes, a million. They never 
molested the trains crossing the Plains, though some- 

5* 



54 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

times a great drove of them came thundering down 
to the road, and the wagons were obliged to halt 
until they passed. There was no difficulty in killing 
one when fresh meat was needed; but the wary 
hunter seldom wandered far away, as there were 
plenty of Indians abroad as well as buffalo. A man 
strayed off one day, and we knew nothing of him 
until night, when he came into camp, naked. Indians 
had caught him while hunting, taken all his clothes, 
even his shoes, and then turned him adrift. He 
kept at a respectful distance from the wagons until 
darkness covered him, — the only mantle he had, — 
and then came into camp. He did not care much for 
hunting during the rest of his travels. 

We saw a man shoot a buffalo one day, and as the 
great beast fell when the bullet struck him, we all 
thought he was dead, and so did the hunter, until 
he ran up close to him to cut his throat, when the 
creature rose up and made a spring, which scared the 
man dreadfully, being entirely unexpected. He ran 
for dear life, with the wounded buffalo in hot pursuit. 
Fortunately there was a saddled horse not far off, 
which the bold hunter succeeded in mounting, and 
was soon far away. Like a predecessor, " he never 
looked behind him." The hunts were very exciting, 
and usually took place quite near the wagons, so that 
we could see all that went on. We needed some- 
thing to vary the wearisome march. One variation 
I did not Hke at all, and that was the vicinity of so 
many Indians, who often rode close beside our wagon 
staring in at the baby, who with her light curly hair 
and blue eyes seemed to interest them amazingly. I 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 55 

tried to keep her out of sight, but she never was one 
easy to suppress, and kept me in an agony by evi- 
dently enjoying the admiration she excited. They 
never interfered with us, however, our party being 
too large for them to feel certain of victory if they 
made the fight. I was truly rejoiced when we got 
away from their haunts and hunting-grounds. They 
roamed the plains in the summer season, killing the 
buffalo, curing meat, and dressing the hides for their 
winter supplies. 

I used to watch the Mexican teamsters drying 
buffalo meat, or "jerking" it, with much interest. It 
was cut into thin, narrow strips, and hung up in the 
sun on ropes stretched across the camp from wagon 
to wagon. When we were ready to leave the meat 
was taken down, packed in " gunny-sacks," and 
tramped and stamped upon to make it less bulky. 
Then it was stowed away in the wagons and taken 
out and sunned at every camp. No salt is used in 
jerking the meat, and to me it is horrible; but I sup- 
pose if brought to the verge of starvation I might 
be able to relish it — hardly otherwise. 

We travelled rapidly from Fort Union to Kansas 
City, making the distance of six hundred miles in 
twenty-four days. We stopped at the principal hotel 
in the town, being driven to it in our ten-mule wagons. 
What a sensation we would make now, by arriving 
in that style ! Then no one gave us a second look. 
Such sights were of daily occurrence. Before rail- 
roads were built trains of wagons were always to be 
seen going to and coming from the Territories. 



56 / MARRIED A Si^DIER. 



The journey from Kansas City to St. Louis, and 
ffom there to Carlisle, Pa., took a good deal of time. 
We travelled from St. Louis alone, but many a kind 
hand was stretched out to help us when we needed 
assistance. 

How delightful it was to be at home once more ! 
Of course the first grandchild was an important per- 
son, and came in for a large share of attention and 
admiration, which she received with all the coolness 
and matter-of-course air of one who had seen much 
of the world and was accustomed to it. I had been 
gone nearly three years, and many changes had taken 
place in that time, — marriages, births, and deaths 
among my relatives. 

I had been so long deprived of everything but the 
bare necessaries of life, it seemed to me my friends 
lived luxuriously, and I enjoyed my visit to the fullest 
extent. 

The greatest drawback to my happiness, while at 
home, was the time required for letters to come from 
and go to New Mexico, — a whole month between 
mails, which were carried on a stage, running between 
Independence, Missouri, and Santa Fe, New Mexico. 
The mail stations on the plains were few and far 
apart, where there were only enough hardy, deter- 
mined men to look after the mules required for the 



/ MARKED A SOLDIER. 57 

stage. These stations were almost fortresses on a 
small scale, built of stone, with a high wall around 
them to protect the stock from Indians. The stage- 
drivers were experienced frontiersmen, who knew 
well the risks they ran, and those who travelled with 
them have told me there was no time lost between 
stations, going at a full gallop most of the way. 
Often wild and unbroken animals were harnessed'to 
the stage, and at the first crack of the whip they 
were off with a bound, and kept at a run or gallop, 
never slowing up until the house was in sight. 

I remained at home almost a year. In the mean 
time. Captain Elliott's company had been moved to 
Fort Stanton, New Mexico, and husband had gone 
with it. At the end of my leave, as several officers 
and their families were going to Fort Leavenworth 
from Carlisle Barracks, we joined them. From Fort 
Leavenworth we were to cross the Plains with a 
large number of officers and recruits for the regi- 
ments in New Mexico, and were to travel with 
Colonel Charles Ruff and family, who were to be of 
the party, camping near and messing with them. 
We had our own ambulance and tent, and were 
quite independent. I had taken a young black 
child from home as a playmate for our little girl, and 
she was in a constant state of excitement at the 
novelty of her situation, causing much amusement 
by her comments on matters in general. 

Colonel Ruff remained at Leavenworth a day after 
the command left; but as Lieutenant Edson and 
wife were among those starting out, we went with 
them. At the first camp there was always a good 



58 / MAKKIED A SOLDIER. 

deal of confusion, as thini;s were put into the wagons 
helter-skelter, and some time was required to find 
tents, pins, ropes, axes, etc., and the recruits were 
rather new at the business of pitching tents. All 
was ready at last, beds were made, and everj'thing 
comfortable for the night, when one of those awful 
Kansas storms burst upon us almost without warn- 
ing. The wind (now called a cyclone) was terrific, 
and the lightning and thunder a fit accompaniment 
to such a gale. Many of the tents, not being pitched 
to withstand as fierce a battle, went down all over 
over the camp. Ours rocked and shook, and the 
roar of the thunder and the rain beating on the 
canvas was deafening. 

Lieutenant Edson, seeing my tent was not secure, 
came, in the midst o( the downpour, and took us to 
his, which was better pitched, and we were hardly 
out of ours before it collapsed. With my party, 
added to Mrs. Edson and servant, theirs was full, 
and Lieutenant Edson went elsewhere for shelter. 
The storm raged on ; by degrees the tent-cords 
loosened, the walls were blown in and out with the 
wind, and we expected ever\' moment to see it share 
the fate of many others, but the few pins left and the 
guy-ropes held it up. The water rushed in a torrent 
through the tent, and the only way to keep out of it 
was to sit on the bed, which we did until morning. 
An old sow, with her large family, tried to take 
shelter under the canvas wall also, and it was ex- 
tremely difficult to keep her out : she did not like 
the warring elements for her babies aiiy more than 
we did. 



/ .}/,iKRI/':n A SOLDIER. 59 

The camp was a dismal sight next day, — every- 
thing and everybody were soaking wet and felt as 
dreary as they looked. Bedding and clothing were 
spread in every available spot to dry, and the tents 
re-pitched, as we could not well move in such a 
plight to another camp. All had a tale to tell of 
the awful night. One tent blew down in which was 
a child asleep o\\ a cot. The wind gathered them up, 
but the child was seen, fortunately, and dragged off 
by some one as the bed went sailing over a fence. 
The flagstaff at Fort Leavenworth, seven miles away, 
was struck by lightning the same night. 

We took up our line of march next day, although 
our belongings were still in a wet and forlorn condi- 
tion. The storms followed us, and I never beheld 
such lightning nor heard such thunder. When I 
saw one coming we went into the tent and had it 
well pinned down and the opening closed securely. 
Through all its fury I had to look as if I liked it, 
not daring to show fear before the children, and I am 
sure I must have been fairly green with fright some- 
times. But we played, told stories, and sang songs, 
the howling wind and crashing thunder joining in 
the chorus, and by controlling myself before the 
children I lost much of my own terror. But I 
must say I was delighted to get out of the storm 
region. 

We passed through several villages of half-civilized 
Indians in Kansas, and the sight of them filled Kit, 
the black child, with horror. A man came and stood 
by the tent one day, watching her attentively; he 
seemed to be trying to work out an idea. At last his 



6o / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

curiosity got the better of him and I found out what 
the trouble was. He said to me, looking at Kit, 
** Dat you pappoose ?" Before I could answer, she 
spoke, from her safe place behind the bed, " No, sir ; 
I am Mr. Hawkins's girl, of Carlisle," which informa- 
tion was received with a grunt ; he could not under- 
stand a white squaw having a black pappoose, and 
wanted to be certain about it. 

The rivers in Kansas were deep, and hard to ford. 
No one knew just where the proper crossings were 
to be found, and much time was lost looking for 
them. There did not seem to be any one with the 
command whose business it was to find out about 
such matters, and we had to get information from any 
one whom we happened to meet on the road. Being 
impatient to go on, I may have imagined there was 
mismanagement. However, this much I know, that 
frequently, when hunting a ford, the command was 
directed to a certain point ; when it was reached there 
was not a place where. we could cross, and we had 
to retrace our steps, going possibly just as far the 
other way, to find the stream over the tops of the 
wagons. Delay seemed to be the order of the day. 
One morning, after everj'thing was ready for the usual 
early start, breakfast over, tents down, and wagons 
loaded, the news was brought in that ever^^ mule 
belonging to the wagon-train had gone, and not a 
man knew how nor when they left. Of course some 
one was to blame for gross negligence ; but that did 
not help matters in the least. 

Nothing could be done but unpack the wagons, 
re-pitch tents, and remain on Cow Creek until some- 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 6 1 

thing was found to haul us away. Parties were sent 
to look for the mules, but to this day nothing has 
been heard of them, — a remarkable truth. 

For a week we remained in camp waiting for trans- 
portation, when at the end of that time some one saw, 
as did " Sister Anne" in the story of Blue Beard, a 
little cloud of dust in the west. It proved to be from 
an empt}^ ox-train which was coming to the States, 
and it meant relief for us. The oxen were put to our 
wagons, their heads turned towards New Mexico, and 
we were again on the road. 

Fortunately, none of the ambulance mules had 
departed when those belonging to the train left it so 
mysteriously. 

As we could travel only short distances with the 
oxen every day, the time seemed long and exceed- 
ingly tedious. Two months passed before we reached 
Fort Union, a journey of six hundred miles. There 
I heard of a campaign against the Navajo Indians, 
and that husband had gone with Captain Elliott and 
company from Fort Stanton, to join other troops sent 
out to Fort Defiance, in the Navajo country. This 
was indeed bad news for me, as I had expected to find 
him waiting for us at Fort Union, instead of which 
he had gone to fight Indians, and might be away all 
winter. There was nothing for me to do but to make 
my way to my sister, Mrs. Elliott, at Fort Stanton, 
which was a great way off, and not an easy place to 
reach. Besides, I could not always get an escort from 
post to post, so that I made slow progress. 

We remained some days at Fort Union with Cap- 
tain and Mrs. Shoemaker, who were always glad of 

6 



62 I MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

an opportunity to take the weary traveller under their 
most hospitable roof and care for him. 

From Fort Union we went to Santa Fe, in October, 
rested a few days, and then left for Albuquerque, 
where we arrived after three days' travel, and were 
the guests of Colonel and Mrs. Ruff, who had just 
gone to housekeeping in the old Mexican town, after 
having recently crossed the Plains. Colonel Ruff and 
Major Rucker, with their families, occupied a large 
adobe building ; each had a part of it, entirely inde- 
pendent of the other. At that time Irene Rucker was 
a little child playing about in her blue check aprons, 
little dreaming she was destined to be the wife of the 
gallant General Sheridan. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 63 



XI 

On the first of November Colonel I. V. D. Reeve 
left Albuquerque for Fort Stanton, and we gladly 
accepted his escort. We had been travelling since 
the beginning of July, and I was tired and wanted 
to settle down. Six days were required to make the 
distance between the two points, with a house to stay 
in two or three nights out 'of the five or six. The 
weather was cold, and I much preferred to stay in a 
house where there was fire than in a tent with 
none. 

One night, when in camp, it rained hard, then 
snowed. The tents froze stiff, and it was with diffi- 
culty they could be made small enough to be packed 
in the wagon next morning. We had a bitter cold 
ride all that day, and when we camped, at night, it 
was in the frozen tents on top of ice and snow, which 
had to be cut away to make a place for the mattress. 
Minnie and Kit did not seem at all disturbed at 
going to bed on top of the snow. We slept in all 
of our clothes, rolling our heads in shawls ; but it 
was so cold and uncomfortable we were glad there 
was but one night of it. 

It was with grateful hearts we reached the cosey 
quarters at Fort Stanton at last, and were soon en- 
tirely at home at my sister's house, where we re- 



€4 I MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

inained until the husbands returned from the Navajo 
war, when we occupied our own quarters. 

Fort Stanton was a beautiful post, with the best 
quarters in the army at that time, but it was like 
being buried ahve to stay there. Nothing ever 
passed that way, and it was seldom a stranger came 
among us. There was but one mail a month, and 
on the day it was expected we dropped all work and 
fixed our eyes on a certain hill, round which the man 
with the mail, carried on a mule, was bound to ap- 
pear, after a while, if the Indians had not caught 
him. Whoever first spied him spread the news that 
the mail was coming. Then all was excitement until 
the post-office was opened and each had his own 
letters and papers in his hands. Although the 
papers were old, we enjoyed their contents as much 
as we do our " daily" of to-day. 

An officer's wife told me she gave her husband 
only one paper at a time, and laid it by his plate, on 
the breakfast-table, every morning, as long as they 
lasted, hoping he would try to imagine he was read- 
ing '* news." We wanted ours all at once, even if we 
did have to wait a month for a fresh supply. 

We were fortunate in having a pleasant garrison 
at Fort Stanton, and our relations with the officers 
and their wives were most sociable and friendly. 
There were no formal visits then, nor did we have 
occasion to dress up to call on our neighbors. To 
show you of how little use a bonnet was to any of 
us, sweet little Mrs. Lawrence Baker had forgotten 
hers entirely, until, one day, when looking over her 
possessions, she found it occupied by a hen, setting 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 6^ 

on a number of eggs. The style of bonnet at that 
time made a very comfortable nest, quite different 
from those of to-day. 

My sister had a piano, which was an unbounded 
source of pleasure to us. With Colonel Reeve's 
assistance we made quite good music ; at least our 
friends, who, possibly, were not too critical, said so. 
Kind, good Colonel Reeve, always anxious and ready 
to be of service when we needed it. (He died Jan- 
uary, 1 89 1, in New York.) 

The Muscalero Apaches were in camp that winter 
near the post, and came and went as they pleased, 
walking into our houses and sitting on our porches 
without the least hesitation. T found a young fellow 
in front of our quarters with a child's colored picture- 
book in his hands, chuckling and muttering with 
great delight. Coming closer, I saw he was holding 
it upside down, and turned it for him. He was much 
pleased and surprised when he was able to under- 
stand the pictures, and laughed and talked quietly to 
himself. I do not suppose he had ever seen a book 
before. 

I never could become accustomed to the Indians 
staring at me through the window when I was 
sewing or reading. Often while sitting beside it a 
shadow would come between me and the light, and 
on looking up I would find two or three hideous 
creatures, with noses painted every color flattened 
against the glass. I would move away at once, out 
of range of their wondering eyes. I could not en- 
dure to be watched so curiously. Sometimes a slight 
noise made me turn round, and there would be one 

e 6* 



66 I MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

or two Indians standing in my room. I did not use 
much ceremony in putting them out and locking the 
door behind them. They dehghted in going to the 
hospital to get a dose of medicine from the doctor ; 
and no matter what kind of stuff he mixed them, they 
took it with apparent enjoyment. I do not know 
that a dose of medicine, taken when there was no 
necessity for it, was worse than (or as bad as) eating a 
mule with a sore back, that had died in the corral. 
They cut him in pieces, carried the meat to their 
camp, and ate it all up, everything but bones and 
hoofs. A dead mule is not to be despised when one 
is starving. 

My sister and I found an Indian woman sitting on 
the ground by our house, one cold winter's day, 
and leaning against her was a board, on which was 
strapped a new-born baby, which we learned after- 
wards was about two hours old ! The woman inti- 
mated she was hungry and we gave her food, when 
she picked up her baby and walked three miles to 
camp. Before we saw her, she and her baby had 
taken a swim in the little river that flowed close by ; 
the water was frozen hard, and she broke the ice to 
make a place large enough for her purpose. I do 
not know whether all new-born Apache babies were 
treated to an ice-cold bath ; it must have been dis- 
agreeable. 

While at Stanton we saw the yearly distribution 
of presents to the Apaches. The men and women 
sat or lay on the ground in a circle, inside of which 
stood some of the officers and ladies of the post, to 
witness this rather novel sight, to many of us at 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 6/ 

least. I had only been there a little while until I 
wished myself anywhere else. As each article was 
handed round, the Indians became more and more 
excited ; and when the butcher-knives were brought 
out, deep guttural sounds from the men and screams 
of delight from the women were heard on all sides. 
I felt as if we were going to be scalped, and I am 
sure the recipients of these treasures would not have 
been at all averse to trying them, bright, new, and 
sharp, on us, if it could have been done with safety 
to themselves. I never wanted to see another dis- 
tribution of presents to Indians, nor to be in 
the vicinity when hatchets and knives were passed 
around. 

In May orders were received for Captain Elliott's 
company to take station at Fort Bliss, Texas, and we 
were charmed at the prospect of going where we 
would see more people and have a good market. 
There was never anything to buy at Fort Stanton 
but an occasional piece of venison, or a wild turkey, 
from a Mexican or Indian. The game was very 
good of its kind, but we wanted a wider range, which 
we were sure to have at Fort Bliss. 

By the 19th of May we were packed and ready to 
leave Stanton. Our only regret was parting with 
our friends. We travelled over some beautiful coun- 
try, camping every night. The weather was good, 
though extremely hot in the middle of the day. We 
passed several mounds of pure white, silver sand, on 
the road, which in the distance looked like snow ; 
their presence in such a place was curious, and has 
never been explained to me. 



68 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

May 25 found us at the most delightful station we 
ever had, — Fort Bliss, — the old and first Fort Bliss, 
far more pleasant than those of the same name which 
have succeeded it, though the present post is more 
pretentious in ever}^ way, having two railroads run- 
ning across the parade-ground. 

Our quarters of three rooms were of adobe, with 
thatched roof and dirt floors ; it sounds worse than 
it was, for the floor was as hard as stone, almost ; and 
with canvas nailed down first, and a carpet over tliat, 
we were well fixed. Some of the other quarters were 
more roomy and pleasant than ours ; but we did not 
require anything better, and, as we still messed 
with Captain and Mrs. Elliott, they answered very 
well. 

The garrison at Fort Bliss was very small, but 
there were some ver>' pleasant people (citizens) living 
at and not very far from the post. There was a 
good deal of social visiting among us all, and an 
occasional formal entertainment, to which everybody 
was invited. 

Colonel Magoflfin, the sutler, had a large house, 
and several pretty, well-educated daughters. Mrs. 
Magoffin was a Spanish woman, from whom the 
daughters inherited much grace and beauty. Of 
course they were great belles, and their home was 
v^ry attractive. 

At that time Fort Bliss was built on three sides o( 
a square ; a road in front of the quarters separated 
them from the parade-ground, which was enclosed 
by an adobe wall. There were some tall cottonwood- 
trees on the parade, which was covered by a luxu- 



*'^ 



I MARRIED A SOLDIER. 69 

riant growth of alfalfa, or Mexican clover. Perhaps 
there was a flag-staff, too, but I forget. ' 

Almost at our doors flowed the red, muddy waters 
of the Rio Grande, which were ever encroaching on 
the banks and endangering those quarters that were 
near. 

Three miles away was the little town of Franklin, 
— now El Paso, — where we made frequent visits to 
buy our marketing and lay in supplies of delicious 
fresh fruits, furnished by the Mexicans, who inter- 
ested us very much. Besides the market were several 
stores, where everything imaginable was sold, not 
always just what we wanted, however; but we fre- 
quently had to take what we could get. Once, when 
passing through that region, m.y shoes gave out 
entirely, and I was obliged to have some at once. 
The only thing I could find that fitted me at all was 
a pair of light blue kid slippers, not exactly suitable 
for travelling and camping, but all that were to be 
had. 



70 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 



XII 

By crossing the Rio Grande we were in a foreign 
country, — Mexico, — where everything was so quaint 
and strange we could scarcely believe only a narrow 
river separated us from our homes. 

We went over once to visit the old cathedral, 
where the most striking things we saw were some 
ghastly wax figures, large as life, and very precious 
in the sight of the numerous worshippers. On a 
table in the centre of the church was laid what we 
supposed was another wax image ; but on closer 
inspection we found it was a poor little dead baby, 
gayly dressed, and awaiting burial. No one seemed 
to be watching, and the tiny thing looked lonely in 
the big church. I was told it was customary, both 
in Old and New Mexico, to dress up a dead child in 
bright clothes, crown the head with flowers, and 
carry it around the town, with a band of music 
playing the liveliest airs. 

Even those who had died of small-pox were ex- 
hibited, and, of course, the disease was spread in 
this way, very few of the natives being vaccinated. 
There was always more or less small-pox in Mexican 
towns, but, as it seldom attacked Americans, we had 
little fear of it, though, when going to a station close 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 



71 



to a Mexican settlement, we took the precaution to 
be vaccinated. 

Once husband was in a town where a fiesta (or 
festival) was held, and he became interested in a 
game going on in the street, taking no notice of his 
surroundings, until, just at his feet, a Mexican woman, 
sitting on the ground, unrolled a bundle on her lap, 
which proved to be a baby covered with small-pox. 
He did not wait to see the end of the game. 

In the same town lived an American merchant, 
with whom we dealt occasionally. One day he asked 
me to go into his house to see his wife, who was a 
Spanish woman, and I went, though I only knew 
enough of her language to ask her how she was, 
nor could she speak English. So we sat smiling 
and bowing at each other, looking very silly, no 
doubt, when I remembered there was a baby, and I 
managed to ask, in Spanish, how it was. Her face 
changed at once, and she tried her best to make 
me understand it was not well, pointing her finger 
to her forehead and cheeks in such a significant 
way I was certain the child had small-pox. I did 
not feel very comfortable, but thought I would sit 
a little longer. 

In a few moments the lady opened a door and 
called the nurse, who came in with the baby in her 
arms. One glance, and I fled. Its little yellow face 
was spotted all over with what I took to be small- 
pox ; but I did not stop to ask any questions, running 
through the store and into the street to our carriage 
before I drew breath. I have no doubt my rapid 
flight amazed the polite little Spanish woman, and 



72 / AfARRIED A SOLDIER. 

that she thoii2:ht the Senora Americano had gone 
suddenly crazy. That was coming a little too close 
to such a loathsome disease for comfort, and after 
that experience I made no visits unless I knew more 
about the people on whom I was calling. 

We had been but a short time at Fort Bliss when 
Captain Elliott's servants, a man, his wife, and daugh- 
ter, all slaves, were induced against their own inclina- 
tions to secure their freedom by crossing the Rio 
Grande into Mexico. Their departure upset our 
domestic arrangements ver\' materially, as all were 
good, capable servants, apparently happy and satisfied 
with their treatment. They found out the mistake in 
leaving, too late. They returned of their own accord, 
wretched and penitent, but the once pleasant and 
comfortable home was theirs no longer. Captain 
Elliott had always told them if they left him he would 
never have them again, and he kept his word, sorry 
as we all were to part with them, and, heart-broken as 
they were, he sold them to a rich man near Fort Bliss. 
The\' realized too late what they had lost. 

Our second daughter was born at Fort Bliss early 
in the fall, and as she had more comfortable surround- 
ings and better care than her sister, she took a more 
cheerful view of life, and behaved quite well. A little, 
old irish camp-woman took care of her. She had 
much true Irish wit, and her small, withered face was 
full of fun. A thick, close-fitting white muslin cap 
with a deep ruffle hanging from it added to her com- 
ical expression. 

Kit. the little black child, was extremely ill that 
summer, and we thought she would die ; but she lived 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 73 

to return to the bosom of her family, marry, and kill 
herself at last by falling down stairs. 

In the fall, husband applied for a year's leave of 
absence. He had been on the frontier for five years, 
and thought he would like a change. The leave was 
granted, and we made preparations to go East about 
the middle of October. Mrs. Elliott and baby, her 
two step-children, and Mexican nurse were to go with 
us, leaving Captain Elliott at Fort Bliss. 

We disliked giving up our pleasant station, where 
we had been so comfortable and happy. The quarters 
were tolerably good, and there were fewer insects and 
snakes than at some other places where we had lived. 
I only remember seeing one snake, and that was on 
the bedroom floor. When I awoke one morning I 
saw what I took to be a curiously striped piece of 
ribbon. My suspicions were aroused, however, and 
we soon found out what it was and killed it. We 
supposed it fell from the thatched roof to the floor. 
There was no ceiling in the rooms, so that the rafters 
and thatching were distinctly visible, and there was 
nothing to prevent a snake dropping in on us when- 
ever he felt inclined. 

We left Fort Bliss for San Antonio on the 1 3th of 
October with an escort and enough men to pitch our 
tents. Mrs. Elliott and her family had an ambulance 
for themselves, while we used one belonging to an 
army officer who wanted it sent to San Antonio, so 
we were mutually accommodated. 

We had four mules in our team which husband 
was to drive the whole six hundred miles, and he did 
it in a very creditable manner. Many an anxious 

D 7 



74 I MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

day and night we spent on that journey. The Indians 
were ever on the lookout for small parties, and eter- 
nal vigilance was required to keep them at bay, and 
" the lieutenant" was always on the alert. 

Our camps were kept as dark as possible at night, 
no fires nor candles were allowed, but such precau- 
tions were often useless, for, just when everj^thing 
should have been quiet, one or other baby was sure 
to set up such a roar ** as might have been heard ten 
miles or more." 

I quake now, when I think what risks we ran 
travelling with small escorts. Nothing but constant 
watchfulness on the part of Lieutenant Lane and 
his few men kept us from being attacked. Indians 
were more afraid of soldiers then, and had more 
respect for them than now, and travellers with a 
military escort, when careful, were not often molested, 
unless the Indians far outnumbered them and were 
sure of the result. A bow with poisoned arrows 
was the Indians' principal weapon, and it was seldom 
that a good gun was found among them ; hence their 
respect for a well-armed soldier. 

Woe to the hapless party that fell into the devilish 
hands of a band of Indians ! Men were generally 
put to death by slow torture, but they were allowed 
to live long enough to witness the atrocities practised 
on their wives and children, such things as only 
fiends could devise. Babies had their brains dashed 
out before the eyes of father and mother, powerless 
to help them. Lucky would the latter have been, 
had they treated her in the same way ; but what she 
was forced to endure would have wrung tears from 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 75 

anything but an Indian. Do you wonder at our 
dread of them ? 

The country between Fort Bliss and Fort Davis 
was particularly adapted to Indian warfare. Nu- 
merous trains of wagons and bands of emigrants 
had been attacked and destroyed at some of the 
water-holes on that road. Van Horn's Well, Eagle 
Spring, and Dead Man's Hole were favorite water- 
ing-places and camp-grounds. Dreary, desolate 
spots they were, as many an army officer and soldier, 
and women not a few, can testify. 

Our little camp of four or five tents, two ambu- 
lances, and possibly three wagons, looked lonesome 
enough, with but a handful of men and two or three 
women and some little children ; not another living 
thing to be seen, except the mules. 

It was a pleasure to us when we reached an army 
post where we were safe, and for that day, at least, 
could relax our vigilance. We met with kind friends 
everywhere, who supplied us with many comforts 
which could not be purchased. 

We stayed over at Fort Davis, where wagons, etc., 
were repaired and everything put to rights that re- 
quired attention. The people whom we met in 1856, 
when the Rifle Regiment passed there, en route to 
New Mexico, were all gone ; but those who replaced 
them were equally kind, and anxious to help us in 
any way. 

We had a funny time at Camp (now Fort) Stockton, 
our next halting-place ; at least it is funny now to 
remember. As there were some quarters vacant, we 
went into them, while we remained, as we had more 



J^ I MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

room than in the tents to examine our camping 
" outfit," mend clothes, etc. 

The first thing we did was to make inquiries for a 
laundress, as we had been without one for some time. 
Unfortunately for us, the day to " lie over" was 
Sunday, and not a camp-woman at the post would 
do anything for us, which might speak well for their 
piety ; but I am inclined to think they had some- 
thing more entertaining on hand for the day, and, 
having worked hard all week, did not care to put 
themselves out to accommodate us. Here was an 
unlooked-for dilemma ; we were obliged to leave 
next day, and must find a laundress somewhere. 

Afler a consultation it became very evident that if 
there was to be any washing done that Sunday 
morning, the ladies must do it themselves ; and we 
went to work, borrowed tubs and boards, rolled up 
our sleeves in true laundress style, and did our best. 

The results were far from satisfactory ; though we 
used all our energy and strength, the articles looked 
rather worse than before they had passed through 
our unskilful hands. We were not much elated at 
our first attempt at washing clothes, and did not try 
to iron them. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. // 



XIII 

We left Camp Stockton next day with a large 
train of empty wagons, returning to San Antonio, 
and Lieutenant Lane took control of it, to the evi- 
dent disgust of the wagon-master, who hoped to 
have matters all his own way, halting and leaving 
camp as suited his own convenience. He was a 
small, lame man, with a villanous countenance, who 
never obeyed an order without a protest. His 
conduct was almost mutinous, and I feared trouble 
from him and his teamsters, as he had influence with 
them, and turned them against " the lieutenant." 
All this, added to my anxiety about Indians, made 
the journey anything but pleasant. 

The man gave in at last, knowing he must obey 
or fight ; but he was always sullen and disagreeable. 

Again I saw Camp Lancaster, the worst of all the 
posts in Texas. The road to it led over a hill, 
which was even worse than those we crossed going 
to Burgwin, and exceeds my descriptive powers. I 
had laughed when told of this dreadful hill, and my 
friend said she knew I would not ride down it ; I re- 
plied I never got out of the ambulance, no matter 
how bad the road might be. When I came to the 
top of it and saw what was before me, I pulled open 
the door of the ambulance, and was on the ground 

7* 



yS I MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

in a second and walked to the bottom of the hill. 
How ambulances and \va5;i^ons ever went up and 
down such a place without beings dashed to pieces I 
cannot imagine, but then nothing ever seemed to 
happen to army wagons. 

We found Fort Clark much improved since we 
had lived there, in the little shant\' in the chaparral. 
General French was in command, and entertained 
us most kindly. 

Five or six days later we reached San Antonio, 
and were thankful the most dangerous part <^i the 
road was passed. 

The quartermaster at once discharged the insub- 
ordinate \vagon-master when the case was laid before 
him, whereupon the man sent word to Lieutenant 
Lane he was going to kill him, but he changed his 
mind. 

As the yellow fever was epidemic in some of the 
towns through which we must pass to reach the 
coast, we were obliged to delay our departure for 
the North, and decided to visit Austin until the 
weather became cold enough for frost or until the 
fever abated. An addition oi ten people, large and 
small, made a material change in the household of 
Dr. and Mrs. Lane; but, with true Southern hospi- 
tality, thev would not hear of our j^oin;^ anywhere 
else to stay. 

By the 4th of December it was thought safe for 
us to bcijin our travels towards the coast throui^h 
the country where the fever had recently raged. 

When we left Austin, in the stage, the day was 
verv hot. There had been enoueh frost before that 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 79 

time, however, to put an end to the epidemic for that 
season. As night drew on, an unmistakable puff of 
cool wind announced the coming of a norther, and 
by the time the town was reached where we were to 
change horses we were suffering with the cold. We 
were tired out from our day's ride, and still had the 
prospect of an all-night journey before us. It took 
some time to get the weary, sleepy children out of 
the stage and into the house, where the warmth of a 
bright wood-fire comforted us all wonderfully. By 
this time it was blowing and raining hard, the rain 
freezing as it fell. The stage only stopped at this 
place long enough to change horses usually, but the 
ice-cold norther paralyzed the negro hostlers, and it 
was hours before all were ready to leave. 

Instead of the regular coach, a " mud-wagon" had 
been substituted, on account of the dangerous condi- 
tion of the roads, which were frozen and very slip- 
pery. 

What a fearful night we passed ! There were ten 
in our party, including the baby, a very important 
member of it, as she ran equal chances of freezing 
or smothering. How we all managed to pack in the 
wagon, with several other passengers, I do not know. 
I remember my shawl had slipped off my shoulders, 
and I was utterly powerless and unable to get it 
around me again, and no one could assist me unless 
I stood up. I managed to stagger to my feet, hold- 
ing the baby in my arms. Then I found I could 
neither stand nor get back to my seat. I cried out 
for help, that the baby would freeze to death, and 
some one, finally, was able to plant me in the half- 



80 / MAKK/rn A so/ /)//'.' A\ 

(lo/t'ii iiu luvs of siMt .i;;.iiM. I in.uli' no int>ic at- 
tempts to riso. '\\\c lucn passengers spent most of 
the ni^ht walkin;.; ; the toads \\>c\c in such a state the 
horses ei>iilil not pull llu- luM\y loail. I\lr. Lane 
walked, too, n>lK(l iu a Na\a)i> blanket to protect 
l\imst»If fn>m tiu- sleet ; l>\- inoinini; it w.is frozen stilT 
oi\ hiuj. The dii\(M hail iVeciuently to ask for help 
tVoui the lui'u, awkI when we u\u1uhI the stoppin|T- 
plaee, nc"\t miuniui;, the poor teIK>\vs were almost 
cxhanstcnl, and we weie so erampcul and tired we 
were hatill\' able to walk. 

The house sc\Mned tleli<;htlull\' eomlortahle after 
our eoKl ni>».ht-ride, and we were not nuieh ilistressed 
when told we wouKl not he able to lea\i' the town 
lor sexcMal days. There was a rope terr\' over the 
river, and as soon as the norther iauii- all hamls 
struck work anil eould uo{ be induied to i.\o any- 
thing. No use to crumble; there the jKisseiiL^ers 
must wait until the norther blew itself out. 

The house was small and pretty well filled, when 
we arrived, with storm-stayed people from various 
points. There was but i>ne room left for all of us, 
ai\il beds were put on the lloor. 'There was plenty 
to eat, and wi' were satist'ied, or, at UmsI, we aiwpted 
the situation cheerfully. 

We were i',lad. howe\ei. when it was announced 
the sta^e wouKl lea\ i> " that day." Heiui', the cMrliest 
arrivals from .Austin, wc' were entitleil to seats in the 
first coach that \c\\. W'c ciMdd have sold our privi- 
\e^C for a hi^di puce, but we wi rt* anxious to pfet on, 
aiid paid no attention to hints thrown cnit b\' those 
quite as ilc^sinnis o( lt\\\in;y as wt* were. 



/ MAh'KlJJ) A :;()1.I)I/:R. 8 1 

W^* found tin: men at the ferry .Miffif-iently thawed 
to vvX us aero'-s the river safely, and we* said ymnX- 
hy f'Jadly to Cli.ijijjell I lili, 'I'exas, ihourdi it Jiad 
been a haven of rest to us after that ride iii the 
hitter cohi storm. 

Seve-ral of the small towns throuf'h whieh we 
jjassed we-rf: almost de|>oj>ulated hy yellow fever; i/j 
som<: of them there we-re seareely enourdi pf:(^pl(: 
h:fi to bury the- de-arJ. At Ifouslon we Vv'ere- ohlij^cd 
1o stay lialf a day at tlie hotel, whieh had just hecil 
reopene-d, after liavin?; heen elo ,' d some- time on 
accourjt of the ^izvcr. '\\\\ , s- ';i/j';d to hrin?'^ us 
rather too elose- to it, hut there wa'> no dan;'e-r of 
takin;.; the- dis' ;i ,e- ;dter the- frost. 

Wc had a nde o/i the- only railroad at that tiuje in 
Texas; the hest thinr; I <,an say of it was, it was 
very short. From the ears we went aboard a steam- 
boat, whieh j>assed throurdi fjayous so narrow she 
frcfjue-ntly seraped the- banks and was .shoved off 
witli lonr^ jjoles. No (jutlet v^/as visible, so nuujerous 
we-re the twists and turns, iiut the boat kept on jier 
windinj( way until shf; entered a broad slieet of water, 
and soon after Galveston was leaehed. We- were 
obliged to remain tliere- a day or two, waiting; for a 
steamer to cross the Gulf of Mexier> fr>r New Orle-arjs. 
We dif] not partieularly erave the three days' voya?'/:, 
hut as no other route was tlien oj^en to us, wc we-rc 
soon on boarrl the bif^ ship and steaminr^ out of the 
Gralveston harbor. As has alv/ays been my experi- 
ence in travelling;, the dornesties were usehrss. Kit 
and Marie, the Mexican niirse, were at onf,c over- 
come and unable to do anything. N(me of us 
/ 



82 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

suffered at all from sea-sickness, nor did the children, 
although the passage was not particularly smooth. 
I remember the ship gave a lurch one day while 
husband was dressing in the state-room, and his 
head went through a looking-glass which hung over 
the wash-stand. We were not superstitious, and, as 
no cuts or bruises resulted, we did not give it another 
thought. Not all of our fellow-passengers fared as 
well as we did, however, regarding sea-sickness. 
One was a bright boy, about twelve years old, whom 
I noticed when we left Galveston and not again until 
we were going off the ship. I asked if he had been 
sea-sick. He said, " Yes, very ; too ill to eat any- 
thing, although he had paid for his passage and meals 
before leaving Galveston." He spoke in an injured 
tone and felt badly treated. 

From New Orleans to Carlisle it was a series of 
staging and railroading ; tedious delays were frequent. 
It did not seem of the least consequence whether 
trains were run on time or not. There were no 
Pullman cars then, and we had to do the best we 
could when travelling at night. Sometimes changes 
had to be made after we had gone to sleep, and great 
confusion was the result, to collect the children, 
bundles, etc. If we had not been so interested we 
would have found it amusing to watch the Mexican 
girl getting out of the cars. She never had seen one 
before, and was not used to going up- and down-stairs 
in the adobe shanties at home. She would stand on 
the platform of the car, put one foot on the step and 
bring the other down beside it, standing still for a 
second or two, trjnng to hold her dress closely 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 83 

around her ankles ; then she would go through the 
same thing until she reached the ground, and we 
were ready to shake her for her delay. 

She almost had a convulsion the first time she 
heard a steam-engine whistle. 

In Mississippi we had another tedious stage-ride 
of a day and part of the night. The coach was 
packed full, of course, and the poor children had to 
sit on any lap that would accommodate them. The 
mud was two feet deep, and the men passengers had 
to assist in digging the stage out of the mire with 
fence-rails several times during the day. It was 
midnight when we reached the railroad again. There 
was not a house anywhere about, in which we could 
get a room to rest, and we were in despair. After 
a while, some men connected with the railroad took 
compassion on the poor tired children, and let us go 
into a baggage-car, filled with mail-bags, over which 
we spread some shawls, lay down, and slept soundly 
until the cars were ready to leave next morning. 

When we arrived at Washington a question arose 
about allowing Kit to be taken from a slave State 
into a free one without certain papers, although she 
was born free. W^e were delayed some time while 
the matter was discussed, and at last " the lieutenant's" 
patience became exhausted, and he told the man 
they could keep her, which made the child almost 
white from fright. Finally, consent was given for 
, her to leave, the authorities being satisfied she was 
not a slave. 



84 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 



XIV 

We finished our travels just before Christmas. 
What a comfort it was to find a good nurse ready 
for the baby, and be able to rest after having been on 
the road since the middle of October, two months. 

Notwithstanding a whole year's leave had been 
granted when the application was made, husband 
was ordered back to New Mexico the next summer. 
He went on to New York and laid his case before 
*' the powers," all to no purpose. Lorenzo Thomas 
was then adjutant-general to General Winfield Scott, 
and not noted for his suave manner nor kindly feel- 
ing towards young officers. The interview between 
the two gentlemen was stormy, which, perhaps, did 
" the lieutenant's" cause more harm than good ; but 
he had the satisfaction of expressing his opinion on 
his own case as well as some others. 

My sister, Mrs. Elliott, never returned to the fron- 
tier. She went to housekeeping in Carlisle, where 
Captain Elliott joined her some time afterwards. 

When we found we must go back to New Mexico, 
we made hasty preparations, and were most fortu- 
nate in securing two excellent colored women to take 
with us. 

The nurse, a faithful, honest, trustworthy woman, 
and good-tempered besides, was always to be de- 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 85 

pended upon and a great comfort to us. She still 
lives with members of my family. 

The cook was an excellent one ; but her temper 
was fearful, and I was dreadfully afraid of her. She 
is dead now, or I would not make such a confession. 

In July, i860, we were again at Fort Leavenworth, 
en route to New Mexico. " Prince John" Magruder 
was in command at Leavenworth that summer. I 
dined once with him at Fort Clark, Texas. The 
dinner was of necessity as plain as it could be ; but 
it was served in courses and in grand style. John 
was always magnificent. 

We found the usual large body of recruits and a 
number of officers, married and single, outward bound. 
My brother, then living in St. Louis, was anxious for 
a buffalo hunt, and went with us some distance on the 
Plains. Although it was to be the third time I had 
crossed them, I was not sorry. I really enjoyed it, 
although the scenery was monotonous ; for weeks at 
a time not a tree was in sight, nothing but the green 
rolling prairies as far as the eye could reach. 

When we left Fort Leavenworth for New Mexico, 
each ambulance was given its position in line accord- 
ing to the rank of the officer whose family occupied 
it; consequently, the wives and children of the lieu- 
tenants suffered much from the dust made by a long 
line of vehicles ahead of theirs. Meek little Mrs. 
Blank took it all as a matter of course, and submitted 
without a murmur. Not so, however, with saucy 
Mrs. Dash, who aired her opinions as to " rank among 
army women" on all occasions, and could not be made 
to see why the families of second lieutenants should 

8 



86 I MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

swallow more than their allotted " peck," in a shorter 
time than was necessary. She thought it would be 
pleasant to have a day without dust occasionally, and 
that she would enjoy riding in front, where the car- 
riage of the colonel was always to be seen. 

It seemed to me only fair that the ambulances 
should change place, each taking its turn at the head 
of the column ; but those in command did not look 
on it that way, and the position taken the first day 
out was to continue to the end. 

The truth is, all army women, from the wife of the 
commanding general down to the wife of a second 
lieutenant, are treated with so much courtesy and 
politeness by army officers that they do not Hke any- 
thing that has the least appearance of a slight or an 
infringement of their rights. They never grow old 
in a garrison, and always receive attentions to which 
no woman in citizen life is accustomed when no long^er 
young. I have seen gray-haired ladies at an army 
post dance at the hops with as much enjoyment as 
the younger ones, and they are always invited by the 
men, young and old, to do so as a matter of course. 
The hops are more like a family reunion than a gath- 
ering of strangers. 

After Colonel Lane was retired, and we lived in the 
East and North, it took me some time to understand 
that I need not look for the numerous courtesies to 
which I had always been accustomed at an army 
frontier post, and that if I went out at all, I must join 
the army of " wall flowers," and expect nothing. 

But I am loitering and digressing when I should 
be many miles on the road and in full view of the 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 8^ 

thousands and thousands of buffalo, quietly grazing 
and offering every inducement to the hunters to go 
out and kill them. The vast herds paid not the least 
attention to us, unless the wind blew from our direc- 
tion towards them, when a regular stampede followed, 
and they got out of sight far more rapidly than you 
would believe such a clumsy, heavy beast could travel, 
leaving the old bulls to guard their retreat. 

No wonder the buffalo has entirely disappeared 
from the Plains. Hundreds of thousands were killed 
for mere sport, — often for the tongue alone. The 
prairies were strewn with their carcasses, furnishing 
food for the roving bands of coyotes, always to be 
heard at night around our camps. 

Those fearful storms of which I have spoken be- 
fore gave us an almost daily benefit. One day our 
camp had been selected on a high bluff overlooking 
a river ; Lieutenant Lane was quartermaster, and had 
to leave us to attend to business. We were sitting in 
the ambulance waiting for the tents to be pitched, 
and the driver was standing by his team of four fine 
bay mules, when a flash of lightning out of an almost 
clear sky, followed by a tremendous clap of thunder, 
sent the whole team flying along the edge of the 
precipice. I held on to the children and shut my 
eyes, expecting every instant to go over and into the 
river ; but the trusty driver had the reins and held on 
with might and main, and though dragged some dis- 
tance he never lost his presence of mind. He soon 
checked the mules, but it was a very narrow escape. 

Another day, just as we got into the tent, the quar- 
termaster was away looking after the men, when a 



88 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

heavy thunder-gust came up. The tent, not being 
well pitched, swayed with the wind, while I, with the 
baby in my arms, tried to steady the shaking pole. 
I found I could not hold it and the baby too, so I sat 
down on the ground to await the expected falling of 
the tent, the walls of which had already become un- 
pinned. In an instant I was drenched through, as it 
was raining in torrents, and I leaned over the baby to 
keep her from drowning. 

Husband arrived in the midst of the storm, and, 
seeing our pitiable plight, called some men to assist 
him, and together they held up the tent until the 
danger was over. The situation was amusing after 
the squall had passed. I must have been a funny 
sight, trying to keep the tent from faUing. Husband 
laughs yet at the remembrance. 

For travelling, our tent was always lined with dark 
green cambric, which, when there was no other shade, 
was a great comfort. The glare from the white can- 
vas, with the roasting July and August sun upon it 
for hours, was almost unbearable; the dark lining 
slightly alleviated our sufferings. For weeks we 
barely existed in camp through the heat of the day; 
the tent-walls were rolled up, in hopes a stray, cool 
wind might find its way to us ; but what came gen- 
erally felt as if it had been born and raised in a fiery 
furnace. 

Our costumes were in the Georgia style ; but, like 
the ostrich, we felt that when our heads were hidden 
our bodies were invisible. No one had much inclina- 
tion to watch his neighbor, nor care about his appear- 
ance; he had enough on hand trying to keep alive 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 89 

until the sun went down, when there was relief until 
next day. 

Those hot prairie winds were very trying to a 
woman's complexion, and husband often compared 
the color of mine to a new saddle. I never tried but 
once to take care of my skin, and that was when I 
first crossed the Plains, going home. Some one made 
me a chamois-skin mask, which I put on one day and 
frightened the baby so badly that it is needless to say 
the mask was laid aside after that one trial, and I 
never made an effort again to preserve my complexion. 

During those scorching hot days it was necessary 
to leave camp very early, that most of the travelling 
might be done in the cool of the morning. Reveille 
frequently sounded at two a.m., and by three break- 
fast was over, tents down, wagons packed, and nothing 
else to be done until "boots and saddles" rang out, 
when the recruits fell into line, officers mounted their 
horses, and the ladies and children crept sleepily into 
the ambulances, and we were off for a slow, tiresome 
march, the brides no doubt thinking it was not much 
fun after all to marry an army officer. I for one never 
regretted having done so, and loved every thing con- 
nected with the army : the officers, — not always the 
wives, however, — the soldiers, mules, horses, wagons, 
tents, camps, every and anything, so I was in the 
army and part of it. 

The grass caught fire in camp one very hot day, 
but fortunately there was no wind, and we were able 
to move the ambulance and gather up many things 
and carry them to a safe place before the flames came 
close to us. Hoop-skirts were then worn, and when 

8* 



90 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

I heard fire call, I hurriedly replaced mine, which I 
had taken off in the tent, and rushed out, leaving my 
watch on the bed, thinking more of my appearance 
than of my valuables, evidently. The fire came near 
enough to scorch the tent-pins, but stopped right 
there. The damage done was slight, the loss being 
confined to government property. Lieutenant Lane 
and my brother had exerted themselves so much that 
the latter was overcome by the heat and unconscious 
for some time, but finally recovered. 

Until far out on the prairies we had an abundance 
of excellent wood and water, but as we travelled on 
bo?1i became scarce. Wood was unobtainable in the 
treeless country through which we marched, and the 
only fuel was " buffalo chips." The water frequently 
was from a standing pool hardly fit for horses or 
mules, and poison almost to human beings. 

One of the first things done on reaching camp was 
to put a guard over the water, to prevent the animals 
from rushing into it and making it even worse than 
it was. 

Sometimes a train with many mules or oxen had 
camped there just before we arrived, and as the team- 
sters were not particular to keep the poor thirsty 
creatures out of the water, its condition beggars 
description, and the taste was perceptible even in 
coffee, which was not remarkable after droves of mules 
and oxen had stood in the pond for hours. 

When we came to a hole of good, clean water, we 
filled all the kegs and a two-gallon canteen, so that 
we usually had enough to last us until we could get 
another supply just as good ; but our fellow-travellers 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 9 1 

were not often as provident as we were, and many a 
cup of cold water we gave to those who needed it. 
I remember one day Lieutenant Lane was on rear- 
guard ; that is, he and the guard were at the end of 
the column of soldiers and wagons, with the prisoners. 
The day was hot, and the men were nearly wild with 
thirst, and mutinous. Our ambulance was also in the 
rear, and husband stopped it, took out all the water 
we had in kegs and canteen, made the men stand in 
line, and gave each one a good drink ; they were very 
grateful and much cheered by it, marching quietly 
along until camp was reached. 



92 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 



XV 

I THINK it probable you would not have enjoyed 
a drink of that water from keg and canteen, as did 
those thirsty men. Of course there was no ice to 
cool it ; but the big canteen was thickly covered with 
felt or piece of blanket, which was kept constantly 
wet, and hung up where the breeze could reach it. 
In this way the water was made quite cool; we 
thought it very good indeed, scarcely missing the ice, 
which we could not get. 

When wood was abundant we laid in a supply for 
future use, carrying a log of fatty pine perhaps a 
hundred or two hundred miles chained under a wagon, 
and using it very sparingly to kindle the fire. Any 
one fortunate enough to find a piece of wood, dropped 
by a passing train possibly, was the envy of the camp. 

To this day, when I see a quantity of good chips 
lying in the street, I can hardly refrain from gathering 
them up. I have often thought if I ever become a 
childish old woman my delight will be to pick up 
sticks, remembering how valuable a piece of wood 
was in a country where there were no trees. 

At .that time a little camp-stove of sheet-iron had 
been invented, which required very little wood. On 
top were four holes for pots and pans, and behind the 
fire was a small oven where bread could be beautifullv 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 93 

baked and meat roasted ; there was but little weight 
to it, so that it could easily be carried under the am- 
bulance, pipe and all. As soon as camp was reached 
the stove was unchained, put in position, the fire made, 
and by the time the tents were ready, preparations for 
our evening meal — call it what you will, dinner or 
supper — were progressing rapidly, and it was not a 
bad one, either. 

Odors from many camp-fires were soon perceptible 
and increased our hunger ; the first noticed usually 
came from the teamster's mess, and was a mixture 
of fried onions, bacon, hot bread, and coffee. None 
of you who have not tried it can imagine with what 
keen relish such a simple meal'was eaten ; with appe- 
tites sharpened by the pure air of the Plains, anything 
tasted good, and one only asked for quantity, not 
quality. 

Among the soldiers' wives going out to New Mex- 
ico was a young woman whose family lived in Car- 
lisle, and of whom I knew something, so that I felt 
interested in her. She was a direct descendant of 
Moll Pitcher, of Revolutionary fame, whose monu- 
ment is now in a cemetery at Carlisle, Pennsylvania. 

After travelling several weeks she died, leaving a 
baby a few days old. The poor thing had ridden 
day after day in a rough, lumbering government 
wagon, hard enough on a well woman, and death, as 
it proved, to her. Her baby was born in it, and there 
she died. Out of respect to her, we did not move 
next day. A grave was dug on a little hill above the 
creek which flowed through the camp, and all the 
officers and ladies, as well as her own friends, followed 



94 ^ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

her to her last resting-place. Lieutenant Joseph 
Wheeler, afterwards major-general, Confederate States 
army, read the burial services at the grave. '* Nature 
sorrowed o'er the scene ;" black clouds hung above 
us, and great drops of rain fell on the rough coffin in 
the open grave. Desolate enough the little mound 
on the hill-top looked when we left camp early next 
day. Every care was taken to make it secure against 
the coyotes (prairie wolves), which had often been 
known to tear open a grave and carry off the body. 
To prevent this, large stones were placed upon it. 

Years afterwards, when crossing the Plains going 
to the States, I got out of the ambulance and went 
to the grave, which I found undisturbed. I hoped 
there might be a flower growing on it, that I could 
take to her friends at home. I saw nothing but a few 
blades of grass, which I picked, adding to them some 
pebbles lying near, a sad souvenir to "carry to sorrow- 
ing friends, revealing, as it did, the desolation of the 
spot where the daughter and sister was buried. 

It was always a pleasure to us when going towards 
New Mexico to sight the Spanish Peaks, the highest 
of the Taos Mountains, crowned with perpetual snow. 
It was a change from the everlasting grass-covered 
stretch, which we had for weeks at a time, east, west, 
north, and south of us. We never seemed to get 
closer to the Peaks : as we advanced they receded, 
apparently. They were alv/ays there, grand and 
beautiful, in the early morning with the first rays of 
the sun upon them, and at evening with clouds of 
gold and crimson lighting up the dazzling snow on 
their summits. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 95 

As we approached Fort Union the appearance of 
the country changed : there were trees and hills to 
vary the landscape, and the Raton Mountains were 
yet to be crossed. I always enjoyed the day in the 
mountains ; the road was not bad and the scenery was 
fine. A clear little noisy stream ran here, there, and 
everywhere, intercepting our path time and again. 
The crack of a teamster's big whip had a strange, 
muffled sound in the passes of the hills, which still 
rings in my ears. 

Once over the Ratons, we knew our long tramp 
was almost done, as Fort Union was within three or 
four days' march of them. We might be ordered to 
a post hundreds of miles from Union, but we did not 
object to that. I liked passing through a country 
where we occasionally saw a house and human beings ; 
it was less tedious than roaming over the Plains, 
where we never saw any one but our own command, 
unless we met a train of wagons returning to the 
States, and there was nothing very exciting in that, 
I am sure ; but we looked after the whole long string 
as it passed, and were sorry when it was lost in the 
distance. 

" The lieutenant" was ordered to remain at Fort 
Union, and all we had in the way of furniture, etc., 
was soon settled in the quarters assigned us. They 
were built of logs, and old, but cosey and homelike, 
and, with our good cook and nurse, we enjoyed 
housekeeping after our weeks and weeks of travel. 
By discreetly keeping away from the kitchen and 
giving as few orders as possible to the cook, the 
peace of the household was undisturbed. When 



96 / MARRIED A SOLDIER, 

obliged to speak to her, I made known my wants in 
a meek voice and beat a hasty retreat. 

Some of those officers who crossed the Plains with 
us remained at Fort Union, — Chaplain McPheeters 
and family, of St. Louis, Captain "Jack" Lindsey 
(who resigned later and joined the Confederate States 
army) and wife, Dr. Bartholow and family, and 
several others. It was a large post, \\ith many 
pleasant people whose societ}^ we did not long enjoy. 
We had reached Fort Union in September, and on 
the 22d of December we were in Santa Fe, en route 
to Fort Craig, New Mexico. 

On Christmas Day, i860, we, with several officers 
and their wives, dined in Santa Fe with Lieutenant 
Dabney Maury and wife. Some months later he 
joined the Southern army. 

The possibility of war between North and South 
was freely discussed at table, with considerable ex- 
citement, and so hotly at times the ladies were em- 
barrassed considerably. There were advocates for 
both sides, while others were reticent as to their 
sentiments. We had so little fear that matters would 
ever terminate seriously, and war result, that we soon 
forgot the unpleasant episode. But those fiercely 
expressed opinions and angr)* words were not for- 
gotten by all who were present, and bore fruit later 
on ; some giving up ever\'thing, believing they owed 
it as a duty to their native States, while others fought, 
bled, and died for the old flag, but that was long 
after^va^ds. 

We left Santa Fe in a driving snow-storm. The day 
was intensely cold, and the wind, high and piercing, 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 9/ 

drove the sleet and snow into any small crevice of 
the ambulance that it could find unguarded. Fortu- 
nately we were not going far, and were very glad 
when we reached our resting-place about noon. The 
house was kept by an old Frenchman in a Mexican 
village between Santa Fe and Albuquerque. Our 
host had been keeping the Christmas season and 
" tasting his wares" very freely, so that his excessive 
politeness was troublesome, coming every little while 
to our room to know what he could do for us ; other- 
wise we were very comfortable, and, as he seemed so 
happy and cheerful, we let him enjoy himself 

How well I remember the sights, sounds, and 
odors of the little Mexican towns ! The ambulance 
driver always entered one at full speed, cracking his 
whip and urging the mules to do their best, — I do 
not know why, unless to impress the natives with the 
importance of the coming guests. The trotting of 
the horses of the escort, the rattle of the wagons, 
added to the barking of every dog in the village, 
bleating of terrified sheep and goats, and the un- 
earthly bray of the ill-used burro (donkey), made a 
tremendous racket. And the smells ! The smoke 
from the fires of cedar wood would have been as 
sweet as a perfume if it had reached us in its purity ; 
but, mixed with heavy odors from sheep and goat 
corrals, it was indescribable. 

I never get a whiff of burning cedar, even now, 
that the whole panorama does not rise up before me, 
and it is with a thrill of pleasure I recall the past, 
scents and all. 



98 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 



XVI 

When we reached the Rio Grande, below Albu- 
querque, to cross, we found much ice in it, some 
strong enough to bear our light buggy in which I 
was riding with husband, and we went over safely, 
followed by the ambulance. The children were with 
the servants in the comfortable spring-wagon, which, 
being rather heavy, broke through the ice when the 
middle of the river was reached. 

There it stuck fast, and in trying to pull it out one 
of the mules fell down and went under the ice. 
Great excitement followed this catastrophe; every 
effort was made to save the mule, but he could not 
get up, and at last the traces had to be cut, and he 
was drowned. Husband took the horse out of the 
buggy, mounted him bareback, rode out to the dis- 
abled wagon, and brought the children to me, one 
at a time. The escort, seeing the mules could not 
move the wagon, pulled off their shoes and stockings, 
rolled up their trousers, and, nothing daunted by the 
icy waters, without " waiting for the wagon," plunged 
in, and, literally putting their shoulders to the wheel, 
rolled it out of the hole. By much swearing, whip- 
cracking, and loud shouting, the three remaining 
mules were made to do their duty and drag the 
wagon across to the other side of the river. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 99 

Then the men came in for their reward, which was 
evidently received with much satisfaction. It was 
drawn from a keg, but this time it was stronger than 
water. 

We found Mexican towns along our route where 
we could stop every night. The sefior from whom 
we rented rooms, after assuring us his poor house 
was at our disposal, that he was highly honored by 
our accepting part of it, etc., managed to get full 
price for all we had from him. We used our own mess- 
chest (doing our own cooking, usually) and beds, 
only needing his rooms with fireplaces to be quite 
comfortable. There was seldom any furniture in the 
room ; the dirt floor was neatly covered by a woollen 
carpet of black and white plaid, made by the 
Mexicans, which, though not very gay, looked tidy. 
This carpeting was often woven in a most erratic 
fashion, and no two breadths were alike, but the 
colors were the same throughout : first there would 
come a yard, perhaps, of nicely-woven black and 
white check, then half a yard with stripes, followed 
likely by a yard of grayish-white alone, and so on 
all over the room ; but as long as the floor had a 
covering, we did not object to the eccentricity dis- 
played in the weaving of it. 

Many a house at an army post had no other 
carpet than that made by Mexicans, and sometimes 
(but not often) we found a piece woven with a good 
deal of regularity. When soiled, it could easily be 
washed. Around the walls were laid wool mattresses, 
neatly folded and covered with gay calico ; these 
served as seats for the Mexicans. The small, narrow, 



100 V M.'t/:/;^/£D A SOLD/EK. 

wool-stufied pillows were tlicre also covered with 
red or pink calico, over which was drawn coarse lace, 
like a case, with wide lace ruffles on the ends. 

The walls of the rooms were a brilliant white, 
made so by a certain kind of earth which under- 
went some preparation known only to the natives, 
I suppose. A wash was then made of it, which 
was applied with a piece of sheepskin with the 
wool on it, perhaps because it was cheaper than a 
brush. 

Women did the whitewashing, and thty used the 
same material for beautifying:^ their complexions. 

The quaint little oval fireplaces were my delight, 
placed as they frequently were in the most incon- 
venient part of the room, just behind the door, per- 
haps, with a low wall built out between them to 
protect the fire from too great a draft when the door 
was opened. Sometimes the adobe chimney, which 
jutted out from the wall of the room, was washed 
with butT color and looked clean and prettw A ver>' 
rough and lumpy shelf, made of adobe, projected 
above the fireplace, and served as a mantel ; but I 
think it would have been rather unsafe for costly 
ornaments, as the top was ver>' une\ en. 

When the fncplaccs were in a corner of the room 
and were full of blazing sticks of pine or cedar wood 
standing on end. — not crosswise, as we put them, — 
the eftect was beautiful. 

The decorations on the walls were unique, consist- 
ing of small, cheap looking-glasses and pictures of 
the commonest description. The glasses were hung 
almost at the top o^ the wall, in a slanting position; 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. lOI 

but they must have been for ornament only, it being 
impossible to see yourself in them. 

The pictures were of a religious character, — of all 
the saints in the calendar, — horrible to see, in bright 
tin frames. We seldom saw any one about the 
houses except the person from whom wc hired the 
rooms. They did not appear to be at all curious 
about us, but I think it probable we were watched 
by many a pair of soft, dark eyes when utterly un- 
conscious of it. 

The Mexican houses were only one *>tory, built of 
adobe, with flat, dirt-covered roofs, the ceilings being 
of pine logs with the bark stripped off, mostly un- 
painted. 

The windows were few and far between, and, as 
glass was expensive, it was not often there were more 
than four small panes in each one. Frequently there 
was no glass at all, the frame being covered with 
white cotton cloth ; but as they opened onto a court- 
yard, where there was nothing to see, it made no 
difference, the front of the house, on the street, being 
only a blank wall without windows. 

On the outside of the shanties hung great strings 
of red peppers to dry, and many a big yellow pump- 
kin adorned the flat dirt-roofs. 

It was a rare thing to find a roof that did not leak, 
and it was not unusual, during the rainy season, to 
see on the walls of the rooms long, light-brown 
streaks of mud from the house-top, reminding one 
of a huge map of a river with its various tributaries. 

When we reached Fort Craig, on the 4th of Janu- 
ary, the same quarters were assigned to Lieutenant 



102 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

Lane in which we had stayed on our first visit, and 
where we found such a superabundance of water. 
Dr. Basil Norris, U.S.A., occupied part of the house, 
and we were delighted to have him for our neighbor. 

As the winter rolled on the war-clouds became 
darker, and many a serious talk we had with the 
doctor about the state of the country and what we 
would do in that far-off land in case of a crisis, — no 
railroads, no telegraph, and a whole month between 
mails. None but those who have been so situated 
know how terribly anxious we were. But we tried 
to believe affairs were not as bad as they were repre- 
sented. 

On the 6th of February, 1861, we were again 
travelling, — " the lieutenant" having been ordered to 
Fort Fillmore, — and I was glad to go. As there 
were some small settlements not far from the post, 
we would not feel as completely buried as we had 
been at Fort Craig. We were four days making the 
distance, eighty miles of it being across the " Jornado 
del Muerto" (" Journey of Death"), where there was 
then no water to be found. 

Lieutenant Joseph Wheeler was travelling with us, 
having been assigned to Captain W. L. Elliott's com- 
pany, stationed at Fillmore. Captain Elliott was on 
leave in the East. 

Colonel Bomford and Captain Ewell were also of 
the party. The latter resigned soon after and joined 
the Southern Confederacy. 

Lieutenant Wheeler messed with us. I remember 
well one breakfast on the road. He had not then 
travelled enough with troops to know the necessity 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. IO3 

of an early start in the morning, and of eating rap- 
idly, that things might be cleared away and packed 
in good time, with as little delay as possible. 

We ate our breakfast by candle-light. Lieutenant 
Wheeler and I were disposed to dawdle, politely 
handing each other the various delicacies on the 
table. Lieutenant Lane finished his meal in frantic 
haste, and left the tent, hoping to expedite matters 
which were going on so leisurely within. But 
Wheeler did not notice husband's impatience, and it 
became necessary, at last, to warn us we must not 
waste time, that we had a long and dangerous drive 
before us that day, and it was getting late. 

That noble and polite gentleman understood later 
on the necessity of haste when a march of many 
miles was to be made, better than he did when about 
to cross the Jornado del Muerto in February, 1861. 

By driving far off the road water could be found, 
and about noon this was done. There was no path 
to the place, but the country was not rough enough 
to prevent the ambulance and wagons going to it. 
As we followed our leader we almost ran over the 
largest snake I ever saw out of a show. He was 
quietly sunning himself and took no notice of us. 
We did not resent his indifference to our approach. 



104 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 



XVII 

Husband was very anxious to get back to the road 
as quickly as possible, and, after the animals were 
watered and would drink no more, we started to re- 
turn, when it was discovered that Colonel Bomford 
was missing, nor could he be found anywhere in the 
vicinity. It was absolutely necessary for the safety 
of everybody and the animals to travel a certain dis- 
tance each day, in a country where there was no 
water, so that his absence caused great uneasiness. 
It was a very dangerous thing for one man to leave 
his companions and stray away. Possibly he was so 
sure of his own strength he had no fears, knowing 
he was equal to ten Indians at least, and with Sam- 
son's weapon, the jaw-bone of an ass, he might have 
routed a whole tribe. He was the strongest man in 
the army. Late in the evening he came in leisurely, 
apparently quite unconcerned at our anxiety on his 
account. He had been quietly wandering around, 
amusing himself not far from where the water was 
found. 

Most dreary and uninviting did Fort Fillmore look 
to us as we approached it! It was a cold, gray day, 
with a high wind which blew the loose sand and dust 
in clouds all about us. The stiff line of shabby adobe 
quarters on three sides of a perfectly bare parade- 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 10$ 

ground suggested neither beauty nor comfort, and 
for once I felt discouraged when we went into the 
forlorn house we were to occupy. 

It was filthy, too, and the room we chose for a 
bedroom must have been used as a kitchen. The 
great open fireplace had at least a foot of dirt in it, 
which had to be dug out with a spade before a fire 
could be lighted. It took time to make the quarters 
comfortable; but by hard scrubbing and sweeping 
they at last looked clean and habitable. The wood- 
work was rough and unpainted ; the modern method 
of oiling pine was not known in army quarters 
then. 

I was the only lady at the po'st except the wife of 
the sutler. Lieutenant Lane and Lieutenant Wheeler, 
and possibly one other officer, attended to all the 
duties of the garrison. Lieutenant Lane was in 
command. 

There was a hospital, but no doctor nearer than 
forty miles, for whom we once had to send ; and on 
another occasion the doctor at a fort eighty miles 
away was summoned ; relays of mules were posted 
along the road to bring him in as rapidly as pos- 
sible. 

There had been no improvement in our mail facil- 
ities, and a month was still required to get letters 
from the East. We read with intense interest every- 
thing bearing on the subject of secession in the 
papers, which were a month old, when we were lucky 
enough to get any. 

There was an undercurrent of disquiet around us 
which was felt more than seen or heard, and there 



I06 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

were plenty of men in the small towns, ready at a 
moment's notice, in case war was declared, to make a 
raid on Fort Fillmore, which, with its small garrison, 
could offer but little resistance. 

We were scarcely settled at housekeeping when 
an order came for all the troops to go on an Indian 
scout to Dog Canon. There was nothing to be done 
but to obey, although everybody at the post knew 
there was far more danger from Texans than from 
Indians. 

A sergeant and ten men, all that could be spared 
from the little command, were left behind to guard 
the post and our small family, and they were picked 
men. Those in the guard-house were taken on the 
.scout. / was left in command of Fort Fillmore. All 
public funds were turned over to me, and the sergeant 
reported to me every day. He slept in our house 
at night, heavily armed, which gave us a sense of 
security. 

There was a flag-staff on the parade, but no flag. 
Husband sent to Fort Bliss for one before he left 
for Dog Cafion. I knew I would feel safer to see it 
floating above us, and it was run up at reveille every 
morning through the summer before the post was 
abandoned. When was the flag ever more needed 
than in those anxious days before war was declared, 
to cheer the weak-hearted and bid defiance to its 
eneniies ? 

The public money in my hands gave me consider- 
able uneasiness, and I hid it away in what I considered 
a secure place ; then it seemed to me that would be 
the first spot searched, and I found a safer one. I was 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. lO/ 

determined no one should have that money while I 
was alive to defend it. Just how I would act circum- 
stances must decide ; if I lost my hfe in protecting it, 
I would have done my whole duty. 

The state of affairs at Fillmore and the surround- 
ing country had been represented at Santa Fe, and 
the folly shown of sending all the troops away from 
the post, after an imaginary foe likely, when right in 
in our midst was a real danger to be dreaded. An 
express was sent to Dog Canon with orders to 
abandon the scout, and, to my great joy, the soldiers 
returned, when, with much pleasure, I relinquished 
the command of Fort Fillmore. It was my first and 
last appearance in the role of commanding officer 
of a military post. 

One of the small towns not far from Fort Fillmore 
was Mesilla, which we sometimes visited ; but the 
Rio Grande was between us and the village, and not 
always in a good condition to ford, consequently 
we did not go very often. The Rio Grande has 
of late years cut an entirely new channel for itself, 
placing Mesilla on the east bank, while in 1861 it 
was on the west side of the river. 

We were invited by some friends living there to 
see a bull-fight ; and we went, I expecting to have 
my blood curdle at the sight of streaming gore from 
matadore or bull, and to enjoy myself greatly with 
the horrors of the scene! But I never saw such an oldf 
travel-stained steer tamer, nor one more unwilling to 
fight ; no amount of red-rag waving, nor prods with 
iron-pointed staff, could rouse him into anything 
fiercer than a weary glance at his tormentor. I soon 



I08 / MAR HIED A SOLD IE A\ 

tired of such sport (?) as that, and left. I never went 
to see another bull-fight. 

Towards the latter part of the winter the author- 
ities at Santa Fe seemed to become aware that 
reinforcements were needed at Fillmore. It was but 
forty miles from Fort Bliss, Texas, and in case of 
trouble the handful o'i soldiers stationed there could 
make no resistance whatever. Major Gabriel Paul 
was sent to command the post, and of course chose 
our quarters ; but when those next door were 
cleaned and put to rights they were as good as the 
house we left, and as we had little furniture to move, 
it was not much trouble. 

The garrison was reinforced by several companies 
of h^ifth and Seventh Infantry and Mounted Rifles, 
with their officers. Major Paul was succeeded by 
Major Lynde in the command of the post. Two 
doctors were sent to take charge of the hospital and 
sick people generally, — Doctor J. C. McKce and 
Doctor Alden. It was a relief to feel we need not 
now send one hundred miles or so, if we were ill, for 
a doctor. 

Wo wore turned out o( quarters again that spring, 
but not by a ranking officer. One very warm after- 
noon the children and servants wore playing in the 
\'ard. while we were reading in the house. Presently 
we heard a great commotion, and some one rushed 
in to tell us there " was a river at the back gate." 

Husband, thinking it was a joke, dressed himself 
leisurely and went out, while I kept on reading. In 
a moment he was back to say an immense body of 
water was then in the ward and would be in the house 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. IO9 

in a few moments. There was no time to be lost in 
adorning myself, so in dressing-sack and skirt I flew 
round, and with the help of the servants tore up our 
two carpets, picked up the loose things off the floors, 
and soon had all articles likely to be injured by water 
out of the way. I don't know how we did so much 
in such a short time. " The lieutenant," armed with 
a spade, was hard at work on an adobe wall in the 
yard, trying to break a hole in it, to let the water 
escape on to the parade. I ran out the front door 
and beckoned to the soldiers who were seated in front 
of their quarters, but they took no notice. By de- 
grees they divined something was wrong, as I kept 
on making motions, and they came running over to 
see what I wanted. I explained the situation, and 
they carried out the furniture as fast as possible. By 
the time the men arrived I was wading in water up to 
my knees, all over the house. Everybody, man, 
woman, and child, turned out to see the fun, and were 
amazed to see the stream that rushed through the 
house and out the door, spreading rapidly over the 
parade-ground. 

The day was bright and beautiful, with not a cloud 
to be seen. The flood was supposed to have come 
from a cloud-burst in the Organ Mountains, miles 
away to the east of us. 

The water came booming down the mountains, 
making right for our house ; no other on the line was 
disturbed. Fortunately, there was a set of quarters 
next us vacant, so that we could go right in ; this 
made our second move and third house at Fort 
Fillmore. 

10 



no / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

The quarters were not as good as others we had 
lived in at the post. I did not enjoy the presence 
of a poisonous snake in the bedroom, nor that of a 
bat found clinging to the sheet under which I was 
sleeping. I hated the bat worse than the snake, I 
believe. They frequently made us hurried visits ; 
there were hundreds of bats in those old adobe 
walls. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. Ill 



XVIII 

Fighting had begun between North and South, 
and we were most unpleasantly situated. There were 
at Fillmore several officers and their families with 
decided Southern sentiments. One of the officers 
quietly retired to Texas, leaving his family to follow 
as best they could, showing how implicitly he reUed 
on the chivalry of his old companions-in-arms to take 
care of his wife and children until they were able to 
join him. We knew not friend from foe. 

All the little tittle-tattle of an army frontier post was 
treasured up and reported to Santa Fe. Silly things 
said on the spur of the moment were repeated and 
magnified into something important long after the 
originator had forgotten all about them. I remember 
on the Fourth of July, 1861, quite a number of us 
were singing the national airs, and some one paid a 
glowing tribute to the " old flag," when a sweet, gentle 
Southern woman made a flippant remark, at which 
we were all indignant. When I had her alone, I asked 
how she came to make such a speech. "Oh, just 
to tease Doctor McKee," she replied. What she said 
was reported at head-quarters. Many of our oldest 
and truest army friends resigned and went South, 
several of them passing through Fort Fillmore on 
their way out of New Mexico. Among them were 



112 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

General Longstreet, who came into the post driving 
his own ambulance, e7i route to Texas ; Cadmus Wil- 
cox, Colonel W. W. Loring, Lawrence Baker, Major 
Sibley, and others whose names I have forgotten. 
Colonel George B. Crittenden, one of our best friends, 
also went down to Texas, and I never saw him again. 
Some left New Mexico via Fort Union, crossing the 
Plains to reach ** the States." Much pressure was 
brought to bear on Lieutenant Joseph Wheeler by his 
Southern relations, all urging him to resign. Between 
his desire to be true to the government and anxiety 
not to offend his nearest and dearest, he was almost 
distracted, but he yielded at last to the importunities 
of his friends and left the United States army, but very 
reluctantly. Very few soldiers left the army, while in 
New Mexico, to join the Southern Confederacy. 

Of course, ev^ery day all sorts of rumors were 
brought in oi intended attacks on the post by Con- 
federates, and caused a good deal of uneasiness among 
us all. The commanding officer, Major Lynde, 
seemed utterly oblivious of the danger, and took no 
means to strengthen the place, nor to put his small 
force where it would be most efficient in case the 
Texans carried out their plans to make a raid on the 
garrison. Officers loyal to the United States grew 
restless under Lynde's command ; some made sugges- 
tions to him as to the best manner of protecting the 
post, but to all he turned a deaf ear. There could 
not have been a better man in command to help the 
Southern cause, nor a worse for the government, than 
Major Lynde. 

Several alarms had been given of the advance of 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. II3 

Southern troops into New Mexico, and mounted 
parties were sent out to investigate and intercept them, 
when Lynde could be brought to see any danger that 
might result should the reports be true. 

On one of these occasions Lieutenant Lane com- 
manded the troops, and I quote from an account of 
the affair given by Doctor McKee, who tells it more 
graphically than I can : 

" Lane was a hot-headed Kentuckian" (writes the 
doctor) " who had his own way of being loyal, which 
did not suit the extremists ; but I had confidence in 
his determined bravery as a soldier and his integrity 
as a man." 

The scout left Fillmore June 22, and went down 
the Rio Grande towards El Paso, a rumor having 
been brought in that the Texans were advancing 
four hundred strong. First Lieutenant W. B. Lane 
was in command of the United States troops, and 
with him were Second Lieutenant C. H. McNally 
and Second Lieutenant E. J. Cressy, Regiment 
Mounted Rifles, and seventy men. The doctor says, 
" He (Lane) ordered his officers to examine the 
cylinders of each man's revolver, to see that they 
were properly loaded, as he intended to make it a 
hand-to-hand fight." ..." Unfortunately, he did not 
meet the enemy" — so the doctor thought — but I was 
quite satisfied that they did not find " the enemy." 

Just about this time I had a visit from old Charles, 
who had once belonged to Captain Elliot, and who 
took French leave while at Fort Bliss. His master 
came to Fillmore on business, and brought Charles 
with him. The old fellow was very glad to see us 

h 10* 



114 ^ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

again, and he and I discussed the war seriously. 1 
asked what he intended to do when the Tcxans 
reached Fort Bliss ? " Get over into Mexico as 
quickly as possible," was his answer. *' And leave 
old Sallie and Patsy?" (his wife and daughter) I 
asked. '* Well," he replied, '* you know the Good 
l^ook tells us to look out for number one." I was 
much surprised at such a reading of the ** Good 
Book," and concluded, if he could so distort the 
meaning to suit his own purposes, the Mormon 
woman was right when she told me " the Bible, like 
a fiddle, could be made to play many tunes." I had 
said to her I did not see how the Mormons based 
their belief and religion on anything found in the 
Bible, and the above was her reply. 

Late in June, or the beginning of July, the post 
herd was stampeded, but by whom was not known. 
It was suspected the friends of the Confederacy 
could tell a good deal about it. The stampede dis- 
mounted one or all the companies of riflemen at 
Fillmore, and made them foot-soldiers for the time 
being. Not a horse was loft in the company Lieu- 
tenant Lane commanded, so that the duties of the 
men were curtailed, having no stable-call to attend. 

About the middle of July it was decided to send 
some of the surplus commissary stores to Fort Craig, 
and the company Lieutenant Lane commanded was 
ordered to escort the wagon-train. Doctor McKee 
writes, " He (Lane) was a fighting man, and had to 
be got rid of." 

Before leaving Fort Fillmore we sent all our fur- 
niture, china, etc., to Mesilla, to be sold at auction, 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. II5 

and, strange to say, realized remarkably good prices 
for everything. We were more fortunate than those 
friends who remained at Fillmore and lost their all 
later on. 

On the 24th of July, 1 861, we left for Fort Craig; 
our escort of riflemen was distributed among the 
wagons, as there were no horses to ride. We 
had travelled but a short distance when the wagon- 
master insisted on halting to rest the mules, prepara- 
tory to a night march across the Jornado del Muerto, 
the eighty miles' stretch without water. Lieutenant 
Lane thought the halt so early in the day entirely 
unnecessary, but agreed to it, never dreaming the 
man had any other motive than the one given, the 
good of the animals. After-events seemed to prove 
he was playing for high stakes, but he lost, that time. 

While resting I looked over the peaceful land- 
scape, and remarked that it seemed impossible there 
could be war and fighting in " the States," while all 
here was so serene and quiet. Little did we im- 
agine that within a very few miles of us was a large 
body of Texans, seriously considering the possibility 
of capturing the train with which we were travelling. 
It was filled with provisions, of which they stood 
sorely in need. 

After resting through the heat of the day we broke 
camp late in the evening and started out on the Jor- 
nado, expecting to travel until about nine o'clock. 
It was a beautiful night, clear, and bright moonlight. 
Not a sound broke the intense stillness, except the 
slow, steady trot of the mules on the hard road. The 
children and servants were asleep in the ambulance, 



I l6 / MARKIED A SOLDIER. 

while we kept a keen lookout for danger ahead, and 
enjoyed the (jiiiet all around us. 

Suddenly we were roused by the noise of galloping 
liorses coniin*.; from behind us, and in a few moments 
several men rode up and asked for *' Lieutenant Lane." 
The ambulance was stopped at once, and the strangers 
hurrietlly told their story. One of them was Doctor 
Steck, an Indian a^ent and a strong Union man, 
whom we had known in Mesilla. He came to warn 
us that two hundred and fifty Texans were ready with 
horses saddled to leave the lower country, overtake 
us that night, and capture our train ! I felt as if 
turned to stone, and did not speak for some time. 
Then I asked, " What are we to do ?" ** Fight," an- 
swered " the lieutenant." " We will corral the wagons, 
use the sacks of flour and bacon for a fortification, 
put you, the children, and servants inside, and do our 
best to defend ourselves " 

Imagine my feelings! The whi^le number of sol- 
diers and teamsters would not be more, than sixty 
men all told, and the prospect of victory for our side 
was small. I said nothing, and tried to feel brave, 
but I tlid not — vtiy. 

We had heard before leaving Fillmore that Captain 
Alfred Gibbs, Mounted Rifles, was on his way from 
All)U(iucrtiue with beef cattle for that post, escorted 
by his company, to keep off Indians or Texans, as 
the case might be. If Gibbs knew of our predica- 
ment he might push on rapidly and meet us at Point 
of Rocks, on the Jornado, early next morning. So 
it was decided to send an express ahead (a man 
mounted on a horse) to meet him. and let him know 



/ MARRJKD A SOLDIER. WJ 

what Doctor Steck had reported to Lieutenant Lane, 
and in case we did not arrive at the designated place 
at a certain hour, he was to come to our assistance 
with all possible haste. I felt somewhat better after 
the note to Gibbs was written — on the fly-leaf of a 
book, by the light of a lantern — and despatched, but 
none too cheerful, I can tell you. 

Lieutenant Lane ordered the wagon-master to 
travel as far and rapidly as possible that night. On 
we went, counting every mile between us and our 
supposed pursuers as so much gained. The moon 
still shone brightly on our swiftly-moving train, and 
lit up the desert for miles in every direction, but not 
a living thing could be seen. 



Il8 / MAKKIED A SOLDIER. 



XIX 

About one a.m. the report was brought to Lieu- 
tenant Lane that the mules were giving out, so we 
halted and camped just where we were, beside the 
road. 

No sign of the enemy }ct, and I began to breathe 
again and took some rest. As soon as the animals 
were refreshed and had grazed a little, — there was no 
water for thoni, — they were harnessed up, and we were 
off, hoping soon to meet Gibbs. When a cloud of 
dust in the distance heralded his approach, I was 
greatly relieved ; and as help was in front and no sign 
of an enemy in the rear, I began to feel bold, and 
tried to convince m\self I was not so very badly 
frightened after all, but I think any woman under the 
circumstances would have been quite as much alarmed 
as I was. I could not run away, lest I should meet 
a foe fir worse than the Texans. The Indians were 
always somewhere in the neighborhood, so that it 
would have been safer to' stay where we were than to 
fall into their clutches. 

Lieutenant Lane tried to induce Captain Gibbs not 
to go on to Fillmore, but he decided to obey orders, 
taking a roundabout way to reach the post, and so 
avoid, he hoped, the expected enemy. That some- 
thing had happened to prevent the intended attack on 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 19 

the wagons was evident, for, had the Tcxans started 
at the time set, they could have overtaken us hours 
before we met Captain Gibbs, and we heard how it 
was some days later. 

Suspicion fell on the wagon-master for detaining 
us. It was thought that he knew of the proposed 
capture of the train, and had delayed it on that 
account, that we should not get too far away to be 
caught. I do not know that the charges were ever 
proved, but appearances were strongly against him. 
We continued on to Fort Craig without accident or 
hinderance, to my great joy. Doctor Steck and those 
who left Mesilla with him - hurried through to 
Santa Fe. 

One morning, a few days after our arrival, we were 
startled by the appearance of a sergeant and two 
soldiers of the Rifles, whom we had left at Fort 
Fillmore. They had escaped capture, and made their 
way to Fort Craig, coming immediately to report to 
Lieutenant Lane, and from them we learned what 
took place after our departure. 

What they told us of the fight at Mesilla, Major 
Lynde's disgraceful retreat from Fort Fillmore to- 
wards Fort Stanton, the capture and surrender of 
his whole command to the Texans, has passed into 
history ; but, later, I will quote a little from Doctor 
McKee on the subject. 

We also learned that the talked-of raid on the 
wagon-train, news of which was brought by Doctor 
Steck, was no idle rumor. It was well planned, and 
everything ready, when some Southern men whom 
we knew well, and with whom we had been friendly, 



120 / MA SLAVED A SOLDIEK. 

implored those in command not to attempt it, " for 
God's sake; that there were women and children 
with the train !" So we were unmolested, and the 
Texans turned their attentions to the troops at Fort 
Fillmore. 

Possibly the vicinit}* of the veterans at that post 
had more to do with the abandonment of the raid 
th.ui any feelings of humanity there may have been 
for a handful of women and children. 

I was writing home on the day we heard .ill the 
news from Fort Fillmore, and when my letter reached 
Cirlisle, Pennsyl\-ania, a month later. Colonel Andrew 
Porter, Mounted Rifles, was there. He was given 
the contents oi it, and he telegraphed the news of 
Lynde's surrender to Washington, which was the 
first intimation they had at the War Department of 
what had taken place in New Mexico. 

To quote from Doctor McKee's pamphlet, quite 
a large body of Confederates came up from Fort 
Bliss on the 24th of July, the day we left Fillmore. 
;uid it was some of these troops who w*ere to attack 
the train of wagons. 

Doctor McKee s.iys. ** On the night of the 24th 
of July, the garrison, men, women, and children, slept 
peacefully, with no more tluin the customar>* sen- 
tinels in time of peace, no pickets out in any direction, 
no precautions whatever taken to prevent surprise 
from the approaching enemy. E\*er>'body seemed 
inert and paralyzed ; yet they were all brave men. 
and would have done their duty, had they had a 
comj^tent commander. 

** The Texans. under command of Lieutenant- 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 121 

Colonel Baylor, to the number of four hundred men, 
. . . were quietly encamped within six hundred 
yards of the fort, intending to surprise us at daylight 
on the morning of the twenty-fifth, kill or capture 
the officers in their quarters, and then take the men 
prisoners in their barracks. Luckily for us, one of 
the Confederate pickets, composed of two old dis- 
charged soldiers, came in and alarmed the garrison, 
otherwise their success would have been complete, 
as they intended storming the place at break of day. 
Drums beat the long roll, the command turned out, 
and we were saved for the time." 

The Texans crossed the Rio Grande and went into 
Mesilla, where they found many friends. The com- 
mand at Fillmore was ordered out, and only a guard 
left for protection. There were between four and 
five hundred United States troops in all, who marched' 
to Mesilla July 25, hoping to attack the enemy, but 
no attack was made. The adjutant, in the name of 
the commanding ofificer of the United States troops, 
demanded " an unconditional surrender of the forces 
and the town." The answer was, " If he wished the 
town, to come and take it." A few shots were fired 
by the Texans, which killed and wounded some of 
our soldiers. Then Major Lynde ordered a retreat, 
and Doctor McKee says, " Had any of the senior 
officers present at this time stepped forward, put 
Lynde in arrest, and taken command, his fortune 
would have been made." 

The United States troops returned to Fort Fillmore 
at ten p.m., July 25, crestfallen and indignant at the 
part they were forced to play. 

F II 



122 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

On the 26th Major Lynde ordered a great deal of 
public property destroyed, which was done, prepara- 
tory to a hasty retreat in the direction of Fort Stan- 
ton, New Mexico. The officers and families lost 
everything they owned, as they could not take their 
property with them, beyond a change of clothes. 
The Mexicans in the neighborhood reaped a harvest 
after the soldiers left the post that night. The Texans 
followed up the troops, and on the 27th the whole 
command was surrendered, notwithstanding the pro- 
tests of the officers. No one seemed bold enough to 
place Lynde in arrest and take command. The doc- 
tor says, " Blind, unreasonable obedience to orders 
(creditable always in a well-disciplined force) was the 
ruin of our command." 

On July .28 the Texans with their prisoners of 
war marched to Las Cruces and encamped. Later 
they were all paroled and ordered to Fort Union, New 
Mexico, preparatory to leaving for Fort Leavenworth, 
Kansas. 

Captain Gibbs and his company, in making a de- 
tour, fell in with the Texans and were surrendered 
with the other troops. It seemed hard that while 
obeying orders he should have been so unfortunate. 
We were truly thankful to have escaped from Fill- 
more before these events took place, and distressed 
that our many friends there had suffered such humil- 
iation. Some of the officers and men later on had op- 
portunities to show of what stuff they were made, and 
to prove their loyalty to the government, fighting with 
desperation born of their sufferings, brought about 
by their ignominious surrender so early in the war. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 23 

Major Lynde was tried and dismissed from the 
army; but after the war he was reinstated and 
placed on the ** retired Hst." It never was proved, I 
beHeve, that he sympathized with the South, as many 
were incHned to think. He seemed utterly incompe- 
tent and unfitted for his important command, and it 
was freely discussed, after it was too late, that he was 
not the man for the place. 

Fort Craig was not considered safe just then for 
women and children, and we remained but a short 
time. Our two colored women-servants behaved re- 
markably well all through our exciting march from 
Fort Fillmore to Fort Craig, never showing the least 
fear nor anxiety, nor giving trouble, and were a great 
comfort to us. 

" The lieutenant" escorted us to Santa Fe, where 
General and Mrs. Canby gave me rooms in their 
quarters, and had a general supervision over us after 
Lieutenant Lane left to return to his company, still 
stationed at Fort Craig. 

An incident happened while we were in Santa Fe 
which had a curious ending. One of the children 
had been presented, at Fort Bliss, with a handsome 
silver mug which had been made in Mexico. She 
was one day playing with it in front of the house, 
buried it in the sand, and left it there, I not knowing 
anything about it until next day. Of course it was 
not to be found. Notices were posted over town, 
and an advertisement put in the one newspaper, all 
to no purpose. We never expected to see it again. 
But nineteen years afterwards, in Washington, D.C., 
the cup was brought to me by a young woman, who 



124 ^ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

told me her father had taken it from a Mexican in 
Santa Fe, supposing it had been stolen. He put it 
away and had often intended to send it to us (the 
name was on it), but never did until nineteen years 
had passed. The story was rather lame, but we ex- 
cused it, as we got the cup, which we had given up 
as lost. 

Since that time, 1861, Santa Fe has undergone 
many changes ; there was not then a two-story house 
in the town, or even thought of. The cathedral, the 
original one, was still used, and, as we lived just op- 
posite, we had much amusement watching the large 
congregation going to and coming from mass and 
vespers. There were no seats nor pews in the church, 
except possibly some chairs, provided for their own 
use by the few Americans who were Roman Catho- 
lics. The Mexicans knelt or sat on the hard, cold 
floor of tiles or brick during the entire service. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. l.- 

^7 



XX 

The Mexican women still wore the national dress, 
which suited them much better than the half-Amer- 
ican and wholly bad style recently adopted by them. 
Many of the fancifully adorned senoritas walked to 
church in satin slippers, frequently dispensing with 
stockings altogether, which was not a bad arrange- 
ment, perhaps ; for, if the beauty of her dainty shoes 
was endangered by the ankle-deep dust in the streets, 
she could easily take them off and go barefooted 
without exciting comment from the passers-by, but 
dust more or less did not seem to trouble them. 

When the bells rang out on Sunday, announcing 
the end of morning service, circus wagons filled with 
a band and the actors were sure to pass the church, 
as a reminder of the performance to take place later 
in the day, and which part of the congregation was 
certain to attend between mass and vespers. 

The yard around the cathedral had been used as 
a cemetery for two hundred years, and was more than 
full. Often, in digging a grave, a human skull or 
bone was thrown out, but it caused little excitement, 
happening so frequently. 

At a child's funeral a band headed the procession, 
playing the gayest music. I asked why only chil- 
dren's funerals were attended by a band ? " Because," 



124j I MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

tsaid my informant, " when a child dies we rejoice 
that it has escaped so much sorrow and has surely 
gone to heaven, while with older people '—'' a very 

^suggestive shrug just here intimated in that case the 
matter was doubtful, and that rejoicing might be 
somewhat out of place. 

I saw a funeral once at Las Cruces, New Mexico ; 
the priest with his book headed the procession, and 
there were several men playing violins. The rear 
was brought up by friends who fired their revolvers 
occasionally, ** to drive the devil away," they ex- 
plained. I suppose nowadays, with the influx of 
an American population, all this is changed, and the 
Mexicans bury their dead in true regulation style. 

I was told in Santa Fe that a coffin was seldom put 
into a grave ; that the body was carried to the church 
in one, but before burial was removed, rolled in an 
old blanket, and consigned to the tomb. The reason 
was, coffins were too expensive and scarce for poor 
people, and were looked upon as a luxury far beyond 
their means, so that one was only used for show. 
Speaking of the difficulty of procuring a coffin re- 
minds me that at a frontier post it was often impos- 
sible to get enough new lumber to make one, when 
there was a death among officers or soldiers, and old 
packing-boxes had to be brought into requisition. 
An officer died at a post in Texas, and nothing could 
be found for a coffin but sorne old commissary-boxes, 
which were hastily put together, and the poor fellow 
was carried to his last resting-place in a very rough 
one, on which was marked, in great black letters, 
" 200 lbs. bacon !" 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 12/ 

Indians were to be met with in the streets of Santa 
Fe constantly, both Pueblos and Navajos, who went 
there to trade. I found a Navajo chief one day with 
a Httle basket for sale, which I was anxious to buy, v 
offering him money for it, but he would not take it. 
He wanted beads, and I bought him some, with which 
he was delighted, and I got my basket, which I have 
used constantly ever since. 

Early in the fall it was decided to send the paroled 
troops from Fort Union to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas; 
and husband, who was again ordered from Fort Craig 
to Union, thought I, with the children and servants, 
had better join them. Mattisrs in New Mexico 
being in a very unsettled state just then, women and 
children were in the way, so we left for the East with 
the officers and families going in. " Captain Lane," 
it was then, travelled with us several days to get us 
well started on what was to be my fourth trip across 
the Plains. As it would be cold before we reached 
Leavenworth, he had a small stove put into the spring 
wagon, which had been comfortably fitted up for our 
use, and in which we were to travel. 

Our ambulance had been sold to good advantage 
before we left Fillmore, and the wagon, being roomy, 
answered very well. In addition to the one used 
as an ambulance, we had a government wagon for 
baggage and tents, of which we had two, — one for 
ourselves and the other for the servants, used also 
for a cook tent. 

Husband travelled with us as long as he could be 
away from his post, when he put us under the care 
of Captain Joseph Potter, who had been with us at 



128 / MARRIED A SOLDIER, 

Fillmore, and went back to Union. Time rolled on 
as monotonously as usual, one day so much like 
another we hardly knew when the weeks began or 
ended. 

As we were travelling east, the Spanish Peaks were 
behind us, and now our anxiety was to have them 
disappear. It was with a feeling of relief we looked 
back to find them no longer visible ; it seemed as if 
vi^e were really making headway when the last vestige 
of their blue summits, touched here and there with 
snow, had vanished below the horizon, and the 
familiar landmark was gone ! 

I never expected then to see the Peaks again, but 
they have loomed up before me in all their majestic 
beauty several times since those memorable days, but 
always from the window of a Pullman sleeper. 

I never saw men sadder nor more disheartened 
than the officers of the Fifth and Seventh Infantry 
with whom I crossed the Plains in 1861. Some of 
them saved their ambulances when they left Fort 
Fillmore, so that their families were comfortable so 
far; but they had not been able to carry away 
more than a change of clothes, and were in a sorry 
plight. 

Major Lynde and his wife were with the paroled 
troops, but had no intercourse with the officers and 
their families. 

By the middle of October the nights in camp were 
very cold, and it was far from pleasant rising at day- 
break, and even before, breakfasting by candle-light, 
and being miles on the road by sun-up. As we ap- 
proached the end of our march (there were still two 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 29 

weeks more of it before we could reach Leaven- 
worth), I began to wonder how I could dispose of 
my wagon and camp equipage when done with them. 
The problem was solved for me, almost as soon as I 
began to think of it, in a disagreeable and unexpected 
manner. I will tell you about it. 

We were travelling slowly as usual one day, in a 
perfect gale of wind, a Kansas wind, which whirled 
the light dust in every direction and almost blinded 
us. It was cold, too, and we longed to get under the 
tents, that we might be protected from the chilly 
blasts and rolling clouds of dust. 

When the camp was selected, we found it was on 
a high bluff overlooking a creek. The grass was 
very tall, dry as powder, and quite as inflammable, 
so much so that I was alarmed at the thought of 
lighting fires near it, and so informed Captain Potter, 
who came up to choose a place for our tents. He 
allayed my fears by telling me that even should a 
fire start we would be entirely out of its way, and I 
supposed he knew whereof he spoke. 

The tents were pitched, and everything required 
for the night was put into them, beds made, etc. I 
had just gone into mine, when I heard an unusual 
noise, and I went to the door to see what caused it. 
Will I ever forget the scene before me ? The grass 
was on fire, and the flames, driven by the wind, 
leaped a hundred feet at a time ! It was a fearful 
sight. I knew instantly our only safety was in 
flight, and not a second must be wasted. As I left 
the tent, I seized such of the bedclothes as I could 
reach, and threw them outside ; took one child in my 



130 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

arms, and the other by the hand. The servants fol- 
lowed, and by this time every woman and child in 
the camp had joined us. We fled down the side of 
the hill and into the water, which was nearly knee- 
deep, the poor little children bravely struggling 
beside us, — those that could walk, — then up the 
opposite bank, never looking back until we had the 
water between us and the fire. All the officers and 
soldiers ran as soon as it started, to try to beat it out 
with blankets, and even their coats, but that was im- 
possible. 

The light, blazing grass was carried in every 
direction by the high wind, and nothing could be 
done to check the fury of the flames. As we dumbly 
watched the scene, great burning weeds leaped across 
the creek, so close to where we stood that we were 
bewildered by our dangerous position. 

The officers, finding all their efforts to control the 
now wide-spread conflagration were thrown away, 
and seeing how helpless we were, came to our rescue 
at once. They guided us down the hill to the road 
where it crossed the creek, and we waited there until 
it was safe to return to camp, or what was left of it. 
There were but few of the officers' tents left, and, if 
it had been planned to burn ours, the purpose could 
not have been better carried out. The fire came 
straight towards them, and nothing was left in our 
pretty camp but one big wagon and the running- 
gear of the ambulance. 

Only the irons that had been on the ends of the 
poles were to be seen of our tents. Beds, table, 
chairs, mess-chest, everything we had for camping 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. I3I 

was gone. All our warm wraps, shawls, furs, etc., 
not in daily use and put into the tent at night, were 
carried in the ambulance for convenience, besides 
various articles of clothing for the children, new 
shoes, etc. All shared the same fate ; not a vestige 
was left of any of them but a pile of ashes, which 
was soon scattered broadcast by the tempest. Deso- 
lation was on every side; the whole country was 
black with the remains of the burned grass. 

The fire started on the opposite side of the camp 
from where our tents, stood. A soldier cooking for 
an officer's family, wanting to get rid of the tall 
weeds, stuck a lighted match, into them, and in a 
second everything in the vicinity was ablaze ; our 
friends lost nothing, the wind blowing away from 
them, but the flames swallowed up everything in 
their path. Fortunately, the commissary train was 
out of the way and escaped the destruction which 
fell so heavily on some of us, not half as well able 
to bear it as Uncle Sam. 

When I left my tent so rapidly at the first alarm, I 
forgot entirely the small trunk, which was put into it 
always as soon as we reached camp. I carried in it 
all the money I had, which was precious little, and 
other valuables. 

While I was sadly contemplating the ruin around 
us, I suddenly discovered my box right beside me, 
and on top of it the blankets and pillows were piled 
which I had seized and thrown out of the tent. 
Neff, our faithful man and a discharged bugler who 
stayed about the wagons, was more thoughtful than 
I, and when I left he gathered up what he could and 



132 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

carried all to a place of safety until the fire had ex- 
hausted itself When Captain Lane was about to 
leave us and return to Fort Union he told Neff, the last 
thing, to keep an eye on that trunk, no matter what 
happened, and the good soul obeyed orders strictly. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER, 1 33 



XXI 

The outlook for comfort during the next two or 
three weeks was anything but cheering. It was more 
serious than amusing to be left without wraps or warm 
clothing at that season of the year. The trunks in 
the wagon were not injured, but there was nothing 
in them suitable for camping. I found a fancy woollen 
hood for myself packed away, and, as all my hats and 
bonnets were burned, I was glad to have it, A new 
blue flannel blouse, such as the soldiers wore, was 
given to me, and a friend gave one of the children an 
overcoat, too small for her boy, which answered very 
well. Our supply of bedclothes was very small. I 
had only succeeded in saving two blankets and a pair 
of pillows. Two sheepskins were also snatched as 
brands from the burning, and played a conspicuous 
part in the making of our bed for some weeks. I 
do not remember now where we found blankets for 
the servants ; perhaps from the quartermaster, who, 
as a rule, is none too generous with his goods and 
chattels. 

I had no time to wonder where a tent for us was 
to come from : the bachelor officers gave up their 
" Sibley" at once for our use, while they, generous 
fellows, stowed themselves away in one hardly large 
enough for three men, and there were six or seven 
of them to be accommodated. Among them were 

12 



134 ^ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

Captain Joseph Potter, Lieutenant F. J. Crilly, Lieu- 
tenants Hancock and Ryan (both killed in the late 
war), and Doctor B. J. D. Irwin. 

How we were to travel for the next few weeks was 
a question. Our spring-wagon had gone up in smoke, 
and those who had ambulances had plenty to fill them. 
Nothing could be found but one of the great big ten- 
mule wagons, used for hauling commissary stores or 
corn. The load was taken out, except a few sacks 
of grain, which were left to serve as seats. I must 
say I have ridden on softer ones. 

Many of the ladies and children had all the clothes 
they owned destroyed by the fire, and it was no easy 
matter to supply their wants from the depleted ward- 
robes of those who, although not quite destitute, had 
lost much, but we all gave something. 

After the destruction of our camping " outfit," 
having no table nor chairs, our meals were served 
upon, not the green, but the brown sward ; it was too 
late in the year for green grass. To eat them we 
were obliged to sit on the ground, pleasant enough 
on a hot day in the country for one meal, but by no 
means agreeable for a constancy in cold weather. I 
think I had too much of it, for ever since that expe- 
rience I have despised picnics and out-of-door enter- 
tainments. 

The servants occupied the tent with us, and fared 
as well as we did for a bed, which was not as soft and 
luxurous as some upon which I had slept. We re- 
posed upon the bosom of mother earth. For the one 
which the children and I used, the two sheepskins 
were laid down, and then the pillows. We covered 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 35 

up with the two blankets and various odds and 
ends. 

One evening the front of the tent was thrown 
open, and the bed just made up was in full view, 
when Captain Potter came to ask if I needed any- 
thing for the night. He could not help seeing it, and 
asked, with a twinkle in his eye, if that was where 
we slept? Our bed was sumptuous compared with 
those some of the officers had, but they never spoke 
of them. The nights were cold, and often the frost 
glistened and sparkled on the white canvas walls by 
the light of a candle. 

In the early morning, while the men took down the 
tents and loaded the wagons, we all gathered about 
the camp-fires and compared notes as to the experi- 
ences of the past night, and how we twisted and 
turned to dodge a root or an extra hard spot on the 
ground, but one and all made light of the discomfort, 
and no complaints were heard. 

Our wagon was so high that a good deal of skill 
was necessary to get in and out of it. When we 
were all inside, and the " tail-board" was put up, it 
was thought impossible for us to get down without 
help, and that we were safe until camp was reached ; 
but I proved to my friends that it took something 
higher than a big wagon to hold me, if I wanted to 
get out. 

We were moving sleepily along the road one day, 
when four mules attached to an ambulance^jashed 
past us and across the prairie at full speed. In a few 
moments the bolts that held the body to the wheels 
loosened, and over it went to the ground. The wife 



136 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

and children of Lieutenant Stivers were in it, and no 
one was near to go to their assistance but me; so I 
chmbed out of the front of the wagon somehow, and 
was first at the scene of the disaster. I feared I knew 
not what, but there was no tragedy in the tableau 
that met my anxious eyes ; such a mixture I never 
beheld ! As soon as I discovered there were no 
broken bones, the comic side of the picture presented 
itself, and I took in the situation at a glance. 

Mrs. Stivers, the children, bottles of milk, contents 
of lunch-basket, and numerous other articles were 
piled together in a heap, and it was some moments 
before the human part could be dragged from the 
debris. When the officers, riding far ahead with the 
column of troops, heard of the accident, they came 
back to see what had happened, and after they found 
nobody was hurt, they asked, in astonishment, how I 
got out of my two-story wagon ? I did not tell them, 
nor would I accept offers of help to return to it, but 
managed beautifully by myself — when no one was 
looking. 

The broken ambulance was soon repaired, and we 
continued on our march. A more forlorn party of 
United States troops, women, and children never 
entered Fort Leavenworth than that with which I 
travelled in 1861. We were all shabby together, 
and strongly resembled a band of gypsies or travel- 
stained emigrants when wfe arrived. 

Our camp was right beside one occupied by a 
Western volunteer regiment waiting to take the field 
— or anythi7ig else. A very rough set of men indeed, 
and not at all agreeable as neighbors. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 37 

We left Leavenworth on a boat. There was part 
of a regiment of Iowa soldiers, bound I know not 
where, on board, and, as we crossed the gang-plank, 
a crowd gathered to gaze at us. We felt as if we 
were part of a show, and we certainly must have 
been an odd sight in our motley garments and sun- 
and-wind-burned faces. As we stepped on to the 
boat, one of the crowd exclaimed to his companions, 
** Here come the old Revoluters !" And I have no 
doubt we looked as if we belonged to the last cen- 
tury. 

When I went to my state-room that night I found 
a man already in it. Some rriistake had been made, 
and it had been assigned to both of us. Again the 
officers came to my relief, kindly giving up one of 
their rooms to us, while they calmly lay down on the 
cabin floor and went to sleep. They had not been 
much pampered for some weeks in the way of sleep- 
ing accommodations, and found the warm floor better 
than " the cold ground" on which they had reposed 
for many a night But the new soldiers were not as 
well pleased with their resting-place as my friends 
were, apparently, for I heard one exclaim, next morn- 
ing, after lying on the floor all night, "Ah! this is 
roughing it !" I have no doubt the poor fellow had 
occasion many times to look back to that compara- 
tively comfortable night, and wonder how he ever 
could have thought he was " roughing it" when 
sleeping on the floor of a steamboat; but the war 
was only a few months old then, and what was con- 
sidered a trial at that time was luxury later on. 

We left the boat for railroad cars of the poorest 

12* 



138 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

and most uncomfortable kind, not anything like as 
good as the emigrant cars of to-day, but we thought 
them rather fine after our recent experiences on the 
plains. 

St. Louis was safely reached, and there we were to 
part from the friends with whom we had travelled so 
far, and make our way East alone. We remained a 
few hours at the Southern Hotel to prepare for the 
trip and receive the passport then necessary before 
we could leave the city. 

I had discharged my cook at Fort Leavenworth, 
and her services were gladly secured by a lady as 
nurse. So my party was reduced to myself, two 
children, and nurse. 

While at the hotel a young man came to me with 
a printed form, on which he wrote a general descrip- 
tion of my appearance, color of eyes, hair, height, 
and age. I was too young then to object to ques- 
tions on that usually tender point. 

I took an oath not to give aid nor comfort to the 
enemy, etc., all of which I promised, without reading 
what was required of me. I supposed it was a mere 
matter of form, and did not examine the paper until 
some time after the man had left. I was not likely 
to be placed in a position " to give help to our ene- 
mies," and I should have signed anything bearing on 
that subject ; my whole object was to get away from 
St. Louis as soon as possible, and I thought every- 
thing was settled. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. M^ 



XXII 

Through my ignorance and the carelessness of the 
man who issued the passport, we came near having a 
serious time in leaving the city. He did not ask if 
there was anybody with me for whom another was 
required, and it had not occurred to me to mention 
my colored nurse, thinking one paper sufficient. 

When we reached the ferry-boat I found all my 
baggage, trunks, chests, etc. on board, and felt happy 
at the prospect of starting in a few moments. I was 
asked for our passports. I handed my only one to 
the man, and said, quietly, I had no other. Then 
there was a scene ! He was a brute, and rough and 
insolent to me, and there was not a soul to protect me 
from him whom I knew. None of my friends could 
take me to the boat, as they were going in a different 
direction, and I had to fight for myself I stated the 
case as plainly as I could, all to no purpose. He 
declared the girl should not leave unless she had 
a passport also, and seemed to work himself into 
a rage over the matter, for some unknown reason. 
The passengers gathered around me and expostu- 
lated with him. The time was up for the boat to 
start, and I was in despair, imploring him to let us 
go. A quiet, handsome man, evidently a distin- 
guished person, moved by my distress, stepped for- 



J J MAKKIED A SOLDIER. 

waiil witli his passport, and asked if the name on 
it would not carry the lad)- over. " No," was the 
answer. Finally some one in authority on the boat, 
who hail hetMi watchiii;.; the excitini;- scene, came up, 
antl, askini; lor m\' passport, wroto upon it, " Vouched 
for by II. (J. Sanderson." Who he was 1 never knew, 
but his siL;iiature w.is sufhcient to carr\' us over the 
river, ami 1 thanked him as well as my agitation 
would permit. I still liave that passport. 

The oentleman who had tried to take us across the 
ferry on the streni;th of his name travelled with us 
for two or three days, never intruding, and seem- 
ingly takini; no notice of us until some assistance 
from hin\ would be agreeable; then he would come 
forward, pick up bundles antl baskets, carry them to 
aniUher train, put them in place, and retire to his 
own seat. And 1 let that man leave the cars without 
finding out who he was, which 1 have never ceased 
ti> rei^ret. as I was most i;raterul to him for his kind- 
ness and his thorouorhly respectful manner towards 
me. I was )-ouni;- and shy in i86i, ami disliked to 
aj^proach a strani^er and ask his name. 

When we leached Harrisburi;-. renn^\l\ ania. whom 
shouUl I find waitini;- for us but Captain Lane? He 
hat! lett New Mexico in the overland stai^e, and was 
in the East weeks before we arrived. He had applied 
to General Canby for a leave, which was refused. 
His object was to «;o to Kentuck)-, where a cavalry- 
rei;imcnt had been raised, and the command of it 
offered to him. He wanted to go to Washini^ton 
and ask permission to take it, so when his leave was 
refused there was nothing to do but to resign, which 



/ MARh'JED A SOLDIER. I4I 

he did, ^oin^ irniiicdiatcly to Wa!,hin5.jton, where he 
withdrew his resignation and rer[uested that he mi{;ht 
accept the colonelcy of the Kentucky Union cav- 
alry rej^iment. The authorities would not ^rant his 
petition, but ordered him to proceed to Philadelphia 
and assist Colonel Charles Ruff in mustering Penn- 
sylvania regiments. 

Afterwards he was made chief mustering and dis- 
bursing (officer for Pennsylvania, and stationed at I lar- 
risbur^ and Philadel[)hia until the close of the war. 

We had been home hut a few days when rjneof the 
children became ill with scarlet fever. As the only 
house we had been in between I^'ort Union, New 
Mexico, aiifl Carlisle was the hotel in St. Louis, I sup- 
pose that is where the disease was contracted, or on 
the cars, possibly. Hers was the only case. 

I had not been P2ast lonpf before I discovered that, 
to be considered "truly loyal," I must j^ive up all. 
kindly feelinj^ towards our old army friends who had 
gone South, and that such sentiments must be eradi- 
cated at once. I could not hate them, no matter how 
much I oppo.scd and disliked their r>{)inions; so, as 
my poor convictions could neither carry on nrjr end* 
the war, and were not necessary for the ^ood of the 
country, I kept them to myself, and thus avoided 
squabbles and political discussions, which I detested, 
and of which I knew nothinr^ whatever. 

We remained East all thrc^u^h the war, — those 
years so full of anguish for our whole country. 

In 1863 I had the most .serious illness of my life, 
pneumonia, and f(>>r six weeks the chances for life or 
death were about even, but I did not die, you sec. 



142 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

It was not until the summer of 1866 that we rC' 
turned to the frontier, and I was glad New Mexico 
was again to be our station. We had great difficulty 
in securing servants to go with us, but at last hired 
a very homely middle-aged white woman, who pro- 
fessed to know everything about cooking. A young 
English girl who was almost worthless went with us 
as nurse for a baby boy who had been added to 
our small family. 

At Fort Leavenworth, Captain McNutt, of the^ 
ordnance, invited us to stay at his house while we 
remained. It was very kind of him, for a family of 
seven, added to his small bachelor establishment, 
made a good deal of difference. 

Captain McNutt was well known in the army for 
his absent-mindedness, and many funny stories were 
told of him. One I heard in Texas was quite char- 
acteristic of the man. It was noised abroad that a 
grand entertainment was soon to be given by Captain 
McNutt, and everybody was on the qui vive for an 
invitation. Preparations were made on a grand scale, 
the supper was ordered, and on the night of the party 
the house was briUiantly illuminated, the captain in 
full dress, only awaiting the coming of his guests 
to be perfectly happy. But they never came ! He 
discovered before the evening was over not an invi- 
tation had been sent out : they were lying in his desk, 
where he had placed them after they were written ! 

We found a number of officers and their families 
at Fort Leavenworth under orders for New Mexico ; 
my fifth journey it was to be. There were no less 
than six brides in the party, and not a woman among 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 43 

all those going out had ever crossed the Plains but 
me, and I am certain a good many were not pleased 
at the prospect before them. We had made every 
preparation possible for our comfort and convenience. 
A fine large ambulance, used by General Sheridan in 
the valley of the Shenandoah, and sold by the govern- 
ment after the war, held the entire family. We had a 
buggy, too, which we called the " Mother's Refuge," 
into which I retreated when I wanted rest and quiet. 

A very high horse, purchased at a very low price, 
served to amuse the children, and they were some- 
times allowed to ride him. He was entitled to be 
a namesake of Big Foot, the Sioux chief, for such 
hoofs I never saw before. As he was not bought for 
speed nor beauty, he answered very well, and old 
*' Ned" is remembered most kindly to this day by the 
younger members of the family. 

It was amusing to an old campaigner like myself 
to see the brides start off from Fort Leavenworth 
for an ambulance expedition of six hundred miles. 
Their dainty costumes were far more suitable for 
Fifth Avenue than camp and a hot, dusty ride in the 
broiling sun day after day. They awoke to the fact 
very soon. Hoops were fashionable then, and a good 
deal of manoeuvring was required to get in and out 
of an ambulance with ease, not to mention grace. 
Some of the ladies wore little turbans with mask 
veils and delicate kid gloves. 

I started out as I intended to dress throughout 
the march, — a calico frock, plainly made, no hoops, 
and a sun-bonnet, and indeed I must have looked 
outlandish to my young friends just from New York, 



l^ I MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

but there was not a husband who did not commend 
my common-sense dress, urging their wives to adopt 
it. Many of them did, in a short time, and admitted 
they were more comfortable, even though the change 
was not becoming. 

Such an expedition to the uninitiated, especially 
when the heart was not in it, was exceedingly weari- 
some. The necessity for early rising was a trial in 
itself. Many were unable to eat the breakfast served 
while the morning star still shone in the heavens. A 
cup of hot coffee, hastily swallowed, was all they re- 
quired, but I, from long practice, had learned to enjoy 
my breakfast at three a.m. as much as at a later hour. 

While we were despatching the early repast by the 
light of a candle, the cook baked pans of biscuit and 
fried quantities of bacon and any fresh meat obtain- 
able. All this was put into a large tin box, provided 
especially for the purpose. Sometimes a huge, and 
undoubtedly very poor, dried-apple pie was added, 
and that was a feast indeed, and I assure you Del- 
monico never served a luncheon that was more enjoyed 
than those of which we partook, not at the conventional 
hours of one or two p.m., but generally at seven or 
eight A.M. I must not forget the canteen full of 
tea, the outside of which was kept wet, making the 
contents agreeably cool. Delmonico's guests would 
possibly prefer something stronger than tea ; but of 
one thing I am certain, few, of them would have the 
same enjoyment from their fine wines that we had with 
our cold tea, the pure air of the plains adding a zest 
to our humble fare and mild beverage. I do not say 
there was not " a stick" added sometimes on occasion. 



i 

I MARRIED A SOLDIER, 1 45 



XXIII 

Frequently the Indians made us visits after we 
reached camp. They seemed to pop up most unex- 
pectedly; and though we could not see one while 
riding along the road, we had no sooner turned into 
camp than they suddenly swooped down upon us 
like a swarm of locusts. They were utterly regard- 
less of time and season, making the calls as it suited 
their own pleasure and convenience. They came 
close up to the tent, staring at us, no matter in what 
state of undress we might be. Our dishabille, how- 
ever, was full dress, compared with their visiting cos- 
tumes. A regular dandy honored us one day, and 
this is what he wore: an army officer's coat, well 
buttoned up, an old sword dangling from a leather 
belt, a soldier's cap, and moccasins ; no sign of trou- 
sers nor leg-covering had he, and he seemed ut- 
terly unconscious of the absence of those garments 
deemed so essential in the presence of ladies and 
polite society. He bore himself with becoming 
dignity, no doubt being perfectly satisfied with his 
appearance. 

Quite a serious accident happened to the wife of 

Lieutenant James Casey, after we had been out for 

some weeks. The driver of her ambulance went to 

sleep, and, of course, did not see a small hill over 

G k 13 



146 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

which the road ran ; and the mules, being left to their 
own devices, made too short a turn, upsetting the car- 
riage. Husband saw the mishap, and before I knew 
what had happened he threw the reins to me and 
ran to give what assistance might be required. The 
poor little woman was found to be in great agony, 
and was lifted with difficulty. A halt was made, 
and everything done for her relief by the surgeon 
with the command. Several ribs were broken, and 
she was badly bruised and sprained. When she was 
made comparatively comfortable, we travelled on to 
camp. 

Think how she suffered, carried along in the am- 
bulance day after day ; she could not be left, as there 
was no house for hundreds of miles, and if one had 
been found she would have had no doctor ; travel 
she must, even though it killed her. But she did 
not die, though it was months before she was able to 
walk about. 

The army woman of to-day has no idea of the 
hardships so patiently endured by her mother (in the 
army, also). She now makes her trips from ocean to 
ocean in six or seven days, while the mother travelled 
at a snail's pace for weeks to accomplish one-quarter 
the distance. If this young woman rides twenty-five 
or thirty miles in an ambulance from the railroad to 
the post where her husband is stationed, she arrives 
completely exhausted and imagines herself a heroine. 
The mother was forced to travel with the command, 
sick or well, while if the younger woman is indis- 
posed there are numbers of very pleasant towns or 
ranches along her route where she can tarry for a 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 147 

few days until she recuperates, or she can be quite 
comfortable in a Pullman car. 

I recollect once, when I was crossing the Plains, a 
baby was born to the wife of one of the officers 
with the command. Next day she rode eighteen 
miles in her ambulance, doing the same thing daily 
until we arrived at Fort Union, New Mexico. And 
I knew another young wife whose baby was born 
in a tent in the wilds of Texas, far from any post 
or settlement. Having no woman to give her the 
care she required nor to tell her what was neces- 
sary to be done, she became totally blind from 
the glare of the sun on the white canvas walls. I 
met her afterwards, and she was but a shadow of her 
former self. It was pathetic to see her groping about 
from room to room in that soft, gentle way peculiar 
to those who have not always been blind. Her baby 
died. 

Think of what I have told you, my young army 
friends, and cease to grumble at trifles. Compare 
your lot with your mother's, and see how much more 
comfortable you are than she was. She liked pretty 
things and luxuries as much as you do, but had very 
few of either, and she was quite as handsome and 
young, too, as you are when she gave her heart and 
hand to the fascinating Second Lieutenant Buttons, 
who endowed her "with all his worldly goods," 
which usually meant his monthly pay of from sixty- 
eight to ninety dollars a month, and some bills — 
tailor bills — for clothes, which helped to make him 
so irresistible. Her bridal tour was to a frontier 
post, a thousand miles from anywhere, and a jour- 



148 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

ney of a month or six weeks between her and her 
old home. 

So be content, my dears, with all your advantages, 
your pretty homes and your good husbands. I know 
they are good ; all army men are, or ought to be. 

While making speeches I have left the Santa Fe 
trail far behind, and I must hurry to the crossing 
of the Arkansas River. It was booming when we 
reached it, and had overflowed its banks. It was too 
high to ford, so that we were delayed until the waters 
subsided. We longed to get to the other side of the 
ugly yellow stream, narrow, yet very deep, and we 
cast many an anxious glance at the angry, foaming 
flood. Much time was spent testing its depth, until 
finally it was thought with extreme care we might 
cross. A rope was stretched from bank to bank by 
which the men could steady themselves, the current 
being swift and dangerous. 

Everybody and everything passed over without 
accident, when a handsome young German corporal, 
disdaining the rope, started to swim to the other 
shore, plunging fearlessly into the water. In a mo- 
ment he disappeared, and was not seen for some 
time ; but as Colonel Lane rode into the river the 
body came up, face downward, and was carried right 
by the horse. It was secured and taken ashore, 
w^here everything was done to restore life, but with- 
out avail. The man had been sick for some days in 
the hospital, and it was supposed he was too weak 
to endure the exertion of swimming across the river. 

It was very late when camp was reached that 
afternoon. Preparations were at once made for the 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 49 

funeral, a grave dug, etc. It was dark when all was 
ready. The mournful procession, headed by the 
drum and fife and men carrying torches, was as 
touching a sight as I ever witnessed, as it passed 
on its way to the spot selected for the burial, — the 
solemn stillness of the night broken only by the 
steady tramp of many men to the music of the dead 
march. 

It was awful to tliink of that man, so full of life 
but a few hours before, being hurried into a lonely 
grave far from home and friends. 

The funeral party returned to camp marching to 
the jolliest airs played on drum and fife, and the 
handsome German soldier shared the fate of millions, 
— was forgotten. 

To have seen the oceans of tears shed by my 
homely maids at the funeral, one might have imagined 
he was their nearest and dearest; possibly it was 
nervous excitement which caused the unusual over- 
flow. 

We had travelled along the Arkansas for several 
days before we forded it. There was once an old 
trading-post on the river known as " Bent's Fort.'* 
I recollect seeing a man about the place who had 
been more than scalped by the Indians. It was sel- 
dom one survived that operation, but this fellow was 
an exception, and was lively enough, although his 
head was still bandaged. His recovery was almost 
miraculous, for the whole skin had been torn from 
his head, from ear to ear, back and front. I take it 
he hoped to live to meet his red brethren again, that 
he might do unto them as they had done unto him. 

13* 



150 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

There was not much love in those days between a 
frontiersman and an Indian, and there is not a great 
deal even now. 

As we approached New Mexico a certain unrest 
seemed to take possession of everybody, and there 
was a good deal of excitement visible as the old, 
well-known points of interest rose up before us. 

Fisher's Peak was one that I loved, and is near the 
now flourishing town of Trinidad, Colorado. We 
remember when there was but one house in the place. 
Our recollections of that little Mexican jacal are 
vivid, for husband had occasion to go into it, and 
when he returned to camp I found something crawl- 
ing on his coat which I will not name. 

Our tents were pitched in full view of Fisher's 
Peak in 1 866, and we remained a day in the pretty 
camp. A soldier drew a picture of it for one of the 
I children, which is still in my possession. Our own 
tents, wagons, ambulance, and buggy made a little 
village by themselves, and I have a feeling of home- 
sickness when I look at my picture. 

There was certainly something fascinating in the 
roving life we led that exactly suited me, but I am 
confident many of our companions on that journey 
congratulated themselves when it was over ; and as 
it was their first experience in that kind of travelling, 
it was not remarkable they were somewhat weary, 
and looked forward with pleasure to the day when 
we should arrive at Fort Union. Many of those, 
with whom we crossed the Plains in 1866, and knew 
so well, are long since dead ; some I never heard of 
again, while others we meet occasionally. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 15I 

Among the officers and families were General 
Sykes, in command, Colonel " Pinky" Marshall and 
wife, Colonel Henry Bankhead and wife, Lieutenant 
Newbold and wife, Lieutenant James Casey and wife, 
Lieutenant Ephraim Williams, Lieutenant Granville 
Lewis, and many others whose names have escaped 
my memory. 



'•'152 / MAKRIED A SOLDIER. 



XXIV 

We were much anuisetl at a speech made by a 
pretty britlc when the march was done. We were 
talking; it over, when she remarked that she thoui^ht 
her father would enjoy such a trip, and added, " He 
is an older tfuvi tlian you, Colonel Lane." Such a 
speech was like a ilash o{ cold water in your face, if 
you were not oKl and did not consider yourself so. 
She evitleutly thought Colonel Lane almost too in- 
fnni to lra\'cl so threat a ilistanco. 

I^ut he had his reveni^e. I le met her, a i^^ray- 
haired matron, a few \ears a«;o in Washington. His 
remaining locks were untouched by leather Time, 
and were still brown. He remimled her of her 
speech, and they had a hearty laugh about it and 
other incidents of the journey. 

At Fort Union we remained several weeks, camp- 
ing in a house, and awaiting assignment to a station. 
Great anxiety was displayed by the new arrivals re- 
garding the i)osts in New Mexico, — where they were, 
if pleasant, etc. One day several of the ladies who 
had just crossed the Tlaijis were at our quarters, 
when C^iciuM.d Pope called. OS. course they asked 
him where he was going to send their husbands. 
He, without answering, incjuired o{ each one sepa- 
ratel)' where she wouUl like to go, ami they told him, 



J MARKIKD A SOLDIER. 1 53 

selecting, of course, the posts of which they had 
heard the best accounts. 

When he asked me, knowing how useless it was 
to make a choice, I replied, indifferently, it made no 
matter to me where we were stationed. I was not 
going to say which post I j^referrecJ, for it was not 
probable we would be sent anywhere near it. When 
orders came for Colonel Lane to proceed to Santa Fe 
and take command of \u)x\. Marcy, my friends were 
mad with envy, and one of them remarked, ** That 
is your reward for keeping your mouth shut." Of 
course the likes and dislikes of the wives were not 
taken into consideration, nor even remembered, when 
their husbands were assigned for duty at a post. 

The four days we spent on the road between Fort 
Union and Santa Fe were very depressing and disa- 
greeable : it rained without intermission, and camping 
on the wet ground was most uncomfortable. Our 
bedding was far from dry, and ihciv: was a damp, 
chilly feel in the tent that made us shiver. A quan- 
tity of fresh, clean hay laid over the canvas floor-cov- 
ering helped matters somewhat, and a pan of hot 
coals warmed the air a little. The tent was one left 
over from the war, and by no means water-tight. 

A dismal little stream trickled through it on to 
the foot of the bed, over which was laid a rubber 
blanket, to prevent it from being saturated and to 
turn the rivulet from the bed to the ground. 

It was, indeed, a miserable experience, and my 
powers of patience and endurance were taxed to the 
utmost. I think I would then have sold at a low 
rate any future chance I might have to camp out. 



154 ^ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

The day before we reached Santa Fe our baby 
became ill suddenly. It was fortunate for us that a 
ranch was not far from camp, where we were able to 
rent a room for the night. The house was famous 
at that time as a stopping-place in the beautiful " Glo- 
rietta Canon," where we could be quite comfortable. 
Any house was better than a tent in such a rain- 
storm, and with a very sick baby to be cared for we 
were grateful for the refuge. As he seemed a little 
better next day, we decided to continue on to Santa 
Fe, where we arrived early in the afternoon, going at 
once to Fort Marcy. 

The fort was very small, and just on the outskirts 
of the town. The quarters, built of adobe, were 
miserable, leaky, and in a tumble-down condition 
generally. 

We made ourselves as comfortable as we could be 
in such a poor house, but we were so anxious about 
the baby that there was no time to worry over trifles. 
There were two excellent army doctors at Fort 
Marcy, who were untiring in their attentions to him ; 
he was ill unto death for days, but, through their 
watchful care, he was given back to us from the 
brink of the grave. It is only necessary to add that 
the doctors were J. Cooper McKee and David L. 
Huntington, and hundreds of their patients will un- 
understand that there was nothing left undone that 
could afford the child relief or assist us in our care 
of him. 

Our housekeeping at Santa Fe was an up-hill busi- 
ness ; only one of the servants we had taken out with 
us remained. The cook, ugly as she was, won the hand 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 155 

— I cannot say the heart — of a stone-mason at Fort 
Union, almost immediately, — how, I never under- 
stood. She was old as well as ugly, and not at all 
pleasant- tempered, and, to crown all, a wretched 
cook. When she was disagreeable, she always showed 
it by reading her Bible, — always a sure sign of ill 
temper with her. The man must have needed a 
housekeeper badly to marry old Martin. 

The nurse took her place in the kitchen, and I had 
to teach her everything. I was more capable then 
than when I undertook to instruct Mike, the Irish- 
man, in the art of cooking. We managed not to 
starve. We had cows which 'gave us all the milk 
and butter we required, I doing all the butter-making 
myself. A great deal of the milk I gave to the 
soldiers stationed at Marcy, and also sent it to my 
neighbors, who had none. I remember my indig- 
nation when an officer, who had not been long in 
the army, asked me to sell him some, and the wife 
of an officer, whose baby I had supplied with new 
milk, sent to me for her bill ! 

I was very fond of Santa Fe, and enjoyed living 
there, — the old place was so far behind the times. 
The strange customs of the people and the funny 
sights we saw would amuse you, but I cannot well 
go into particulars. Fandangos and balls were of 
nightly occurrence. I had heard so much, and been 
told so often, of the great beauty of the Mexican 
belles who graced the dances with their presence 
that I determined to see them. We made up parties 
of ladies occasionally, and under the escort of several 
officers went to look on ; but we were always unfor- 



' 156 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

tunate, and never succeeded in seeing the beauties. 
They were unavoidably absent when we were there, 
and I have the first really pretty Mexican woman yet 
to see. I think much of their beauty lay in their dark 
eyes, which they knew how to use on the poor de- 
luded men, while in talking to a woman they kept 
them modestly cast down. The sweet voices, whis- 
pering soft Spanish nothings, completed the conquest, 
and by the time the party was over every man there, 
married and single, was willing to swear to the ex- 
quisite beauty of Senorita Blanco and the bewitching 
grace of Senorita Dulce. 

When their raptures were coldly received by us, — 
the women critics, — they were amazed at our indif- 
ference, and thought it was due to our jealousy of 
the Mexican belles. 

In January, Colonel Lane was ordered to leave 
Santa Fe and return to Fort Union, to command that 
post. His rank then was major of the Third Cavalry 
and brevet lieutenant-colonel. 
^ The Third Cavalry was originally the Mounted 
Rifles, and I never could understand why it and the 
two dragoon regiments — first and second — were not 
allowed to retain their ancient and most honorable 
names, instead of calling them all " cavalry." 

Colonel Charles Whiting relieved Colonel Lane at 
Fort Marcy, and we proceeded to Fort Union, where 
we found new quarters awaiting us. Their appear- 
ance was imposing, but there was no comfort in 
them. 

The house we occupied, built for the commanding 
officer, consisted of eight rooms, four on each side 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER, 1 5/ 

of an unnecessarily wide hall for that dusty, windy 
countiy. They were built of adobe, and plastered 
inside and out, and one story high, with a deep porch 
in front of the house. There was not a closet nor 
a shelf in the house, and, until some were put up in 
the dining-room and kitchen, the china, as it was 
unpacked, was placed upon the floor. After great 
exertion and delay the quartermaster managed to 
have some plain pine shelves made for us, which, 
though not ornamental, answered the purpose. There 
was no one to have such things done but the quar- 
termaster, no towns in the neighborhood where 
workmen lived and could be -hired. You may be 
sure the quartermaster's life was a burden to him, 
pestered as he was from morning until night by 
every woman at the post, each one wanting some- 
thing done, and ** right away," too. But I have yet 
to hear of a quartermaster dying because his burdens 
were too heavy to bear. They are almost all hale and 
hearty men. 

We were quite at home in a short time, and, with 
the addition of a young Mexican man and little Mex- 
ican girl to our establishment, we were comfortable. 
The man milked cows, brought wood and water, 
scrubbed floors, etc., besides telling the children the 
most marvellous tales ever invented. When a little 
boy he had been captured by the Indians, and, if he 
could have spoken English better, would have had 
many a blood-curdling story to relate. The children 
understood his jargon better than I did; and adored 
him. 

Jose (pronounced Hosay) was his name. My maid, 
14 



158 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

being English, called him *Osay. She was an end- 
less source of amusement to him, and he tormented 
her beyond endurance. 

The Mexican child, Haney, was a fine playmate for 
the children ; she was good-natured, and suffered in 
consequence, and when the play became too rough 
she ran to " Mama," as she called me, to complain. 

Their language was a wonderful mixture of Span- 
ish, English, signs, and nods, but each understood it 
perfectly. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 59 



XXV 

Colonel Lane, as commanding officer, seemed to 
feel obliged to entertain everybody who came to the 
post ; and as our servants were inefficient and there 
was no market at hand, it was very difficult to have 
things always to please us, and, I fear, to the satisfac- 
tion of our guests. 

The cook was useless half the time with rheuma- 
tism, so that I had not only all the work to do, but 
her to attend to besides. I took Jose into training 
when the maid was laid up, and he helped me in 
many ways, washing dishes, preparing vegetables for 
cooking, etc. 

His appearance in the kitchen would have been 
against him in the eyes of the fastidious. His lank 
black hair fell over his shoulders, and he was never 
without his hat, but I did not interfere. I could not 
cultivate manners and the culinary art at the same 
time in a savage, and just then the latter was more 
important to me than the former, and I said nothing. 

Early one morning I found him in the kitchen, 
deeply interested in preparing something for break- 
fast ; his white shirt was outside of his trousers and 
hung far below his short blue jacket, which was orna- 
mented with brass buttons. His high black felt hat 
was on his head as usual, and below it streamed the 



l6o / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

coarse hair. I smiled at his absurd appearance, of 
which he was unconscious, going steadily on with his 
work. I had gone into the kitchen in anything but 
a gay mood, with the prospect before me of cooking 
breakfast for a number of strange people, but at the 
sight of Jose my spirits rose. 

The only cook I could find to replace my sick one 
was a colored woman whose right hand was de- 
formed. I tried her, but that hand, with her lack of 
cleanliness, was too much for me, and I concluded I 
would prefer to do all the work than have her about 
me, and sent her off. 

As the plaster dried in our new quarters the ceil- 
ings fell one by one. At least a bushel came down 
one night on my maid as she slept, and she nearly 
roused the garrison with her wild shrieks, although 
she was not hurt the least bit. 

One day I had cooked a dinner for a family of 
seventeen, including children. It was on the table, 
and I was putting the last touches to it preparatory 
to retiring to the kitchen. I could not sit down with 
my guests and attend to matters there at the same 
time. I was stooping over to straighten something 
when I heard an ominous crack above my head, and, 
before I could move, down fell half the ceiling on my 
back and the table, filling every dish with plaster to 
the top. The guests had just reached the dining- 
room door in time to see the catastrophe, and finding 
I was unhurt they retired until the debris was cleared 
away and a second dinner prepared. Fortunately, I 
had plenty of food in reserve, and it was soon on the 
table and disposed of by my friends with apparent 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. l6l 

relish. I, in the solitude of my kitchen, could not do 
justice to the subject, so kept quiet. 

You will see, from the foregoing, house-keeping on 
the frontier had its drawbacks. We had plenty to eat, 
such as it was, but we thought it not always dainty 
enough to set before our visitors. Our friends appre- 
ciated our efforts in their behalf; but we entertained 
many people we never had seen before and never met 
again. Some were so situated that they could have 
returned our hospitality later, but they never did, 
nor did they even seem aware of our existence. 

We are told to take in the stranger, as by so doing 
we " may entertain an angel . unawares." I do not 
think that class of guests often travelled in Texas 
and New Mexico, at least while I was out there ; if 
they did, their visits were few and far between, and 
their disguise was complete. My efforts to, entertain 
an old friend at Fort Union cost me dear. I became 
overheated in the kitchen and had an attack of 
pleurisy, which left me with a cough and so weak 
the doctor advised me to go to Santa Fe for a rest 
and change. The children and cook were to go with 
me ; the latter was better and able to work, but her 
exertions were not sufficient to cause a relapse. We 
took some bedding and the mess-chest with us, and 
hired rooms during our stay. 

As Colonel Lane could not go with us, we left 
Union with a cavalry escort, stopping at a house 
every night. The escort of a sergeant and six or 
eight men were tried and trusty soldiers, in whose 
care we were perfectly safe, and who would have 
stood by us in any emergency. 
/ 14* 



1 62 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

After a stay of a month or six weeks in Santa Fe, 
I was quite well, and we returned to Fort Union. I 
made two visits to Santa Fe in the summer of 1867, 
but remained only a few days each time. It required 
eight days to go and return, four each way, so that a 
two weeks' leave from home soon passed. 

The drive was always delightful to me, taken in an 
ambulance, with a team of four fine mules, which 
were quite equal to performing all the duties re- 
quired of them, seeming fully to understand the ne- 
cessity of making a certain number of miles daily 
before they could have their supper of corn and hay. 

The escort rode in front at a moderate gait ; the 
road generally was excellent, the scenery beautiful, 
and at times grand. The breeze, filled with the odor 
of pine-trees, was exhilarating and delicious, — you 
seemed to take in health with eveiy breath of the 
pure air. 

One morning our departure from the town where 
we passed the night was delayed. An ambulance 
mule was reported sick. Remedies were given him, 
and, as he seemed to improve, the sergeant thought 
he was able to travel, and for a while we bowled 
over the hard road at a lively rate, when, without 
the least warning, the poor little mule fell dead ; 
he never stirred, seeming to die instantly. When it 
was found his work in this world was indeed done, it 
required but a few moments to cut him loose from 
the harness, push his body off the road, hitch up a 
** spike team," which means three instead of four 
animals, one in the lead instead of two, and start 
again, leaving the remains of our faithful servant to 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 63 

feed the coyotes and vultures, which were always at 
hand. The death of a mule is to me like the death 
of a friend, and I do not believe half the bad tales 
told of him. 

Once, when going from Santa Fe to Fort Union, 
tio less a person than Kit Carson — then having the 
rank of general — made one of the party. 

To see the quiet, reticent man, you never would 
dream that he was the hero of so many romances. 
I believe he would rather have faced a whole tribe of 
hostile Indians than one woman, he was so diffident. 
But had she required assistance, he would have shed 
his last drop of blood in her defence. 

We travelled and ate at the same table together for 
three or four days, and I never met a plainer, more 
unpretentious man in my life. One morning we were 
breakfasting in a room which had been occupied the 
night before by several very rough men. The tin 
basins which held water for their morning ablutions 
still stood about, and the scanty supply of towels 
adorned the chairs and tables. 

We had boiled eggs for breakfast, and I asked the 
Mexican girl who waited upon us to bring me a cup. 
Without the least hesitation she took up a glass the 
men had used, seized one of their soiled towels, and 
began to polish the tumbler with it. I found my 
appetite had gone, and I ate no more that morning, 
and Kit Carson smiled quietly at my look of disgust, 
no doubt wondering that such a trifle could prevent 
one from enjoying a hearty breakfast. 

I never saw him again after we reached Fort Union. 

We had a pleasant garrison at Fort Union in the 



164 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

summer of 1867. There was a chaplain and his 
family, besides other charming people. 

Every Sunday services were held in a room called 
a chapel, by the chaplain, and several ladies, I among 
them, made the music, which perhaps was not the 
finest, but was not bad. 

The small melodeon I owned was sent over regu- 
larly for the use of the choir. As we wanted extra 
good music for Easter, we met frequently to practise, 
and to one chant particularly we gave much attention, 
singing it over and over many times. When Easter 
Sunday came we acquitted ourselves well, until the 
chant we had practised so assiduously was to be 
sung. While our young friend at the melodeon was 
playing, and it was time to begin, the soprano whis- 
pered to me that she had forgotten her part. We 
had no note-books, but the words were before her, 
and she warbled, unfalteringly, sweetest music to suit 
both them and the chords of the melodeon. 

I followed her lead, and do not believe the congre- 
gation knew she was not singing as it was written. 

She, and one other who sang that day, have long 
since joined the heavenly choir. 

Late in the summer I spent much time making 
pickles and plum-jam of the wild fruit that grew 
abundantly in New Mexico. Delicious as they were, 
it was decreed we were not to eat them. 

Colonel Lane's health, which had not been good, 
became worse, and the doctor told him he must 
apply for a leave and go East. It was a great sur- 
prise to us that the doctor took such a serious view 
of the case, but, as he said go, we obeyed. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 165 



XXVI 

We had not been particularly comfortable at Fort 
Union, but we were sorry to leave. We liked the 
old log quarters, up towards the hills, much better 
than the new adobe houses, planted right down on 
the plain, which was swept by the winds all summer 
long. How they did howl! About ten o'clock 
every morning they woke up, and whistled and 
moaned, and rose to wild shrieks, doing everything 
wind ever does in the way of making a noise. The 
fine, impalpable dust worked its way into every crack 
and crevice, lodging round the windows and doors in 
little yellow mounds, so that we could sweep up a 
good-sized dust-pan full after the wind lulled, which 
it usually did at sun-down. Sometimes it blew all 
night, beginning with fresh vigor at the usual time 
next morning. Another unpleasant trick the breezes 
had of darting playfully down the chimney, sending 
the fire and ashes half-way across the room, so that 
we had to be on guard to prevent a conflagration. 

As soon as it was decided we must leave, we made 
preparations for a sale of such things as we did not 
require for the road. My house was usually in pretty 
good order, but I hired a man to come daily to scrub 
and scour until everything shone. I was well aware 
how all the articles would be examined by my army 



1 66 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

ststers for spots and specks, and I was determined 
they should find neither. 

When one of the ladies called to see me and take 
notes, I was quite indignant when she whispered to 
me to remember how much better things sold " when 
clean /" 

We had no cause \o complain of the prices realized 
at the sale. In several instances things brought far 
more than they were worth. Several officers began 
in a joke to bid for eleven white china soup-plates, 
and they were knocked down to one of them for 
twenty-two dollars ! Imagine his wife's disgust when 
she heard of it. All bills were paid promptly, except 
where some citizens, who lived a long distance off, 
bought a few articles, took them away, but forgot to 
return and settle for them. 

We needed all the money we could raise for the 
expensive journey before us. It required a great deal 
to travel to and from a country as far away as New 
Mexico, and to have such an expense twice in one 
year was a serious drain on our finances. 

It is almost impossible for an army officer to save 
money. His pay barely suffices for his monthly ex- 
penses, and he feels much gratified if after his bills 
are settled he has anything left over. 

As a rule, he does not often run in debt, going 
without things for which he cannot pay. There are 
exceptions, of course, but. I am speaking of those 
whom I know and officers in general. Occasionally 
a station is found where living is comparatively cheap, 
and he enjoys the prospect of putting by part of his 
pay in the village bank every month. But before he 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 6/ 

becomes entirely accustomed to the pleasure of being 
"a bloated bondholder," an order comes sending 
him from Maine to California, or from Oregon to 
Florida. 

With a sigh he draws his year's savings from the 
bank, knowing how far short it will fall when travel- 
ling expenses are paid out of the amount and pro- 
vision made for Jimmie, Margaret, baby, and nurse, 
not to mention Mrs. Second Lieutenant Napoleon 
Smith. 

Poor Second Lieutenant Napoleon Smith can only 
hope " the Lord will provide," and he does seem to, 
for we almost always find the lieutenant and family 
there on time, however it is accomplished. 

His expenses are not yet ended : the change of 
climate necessitates a change of clothing, and by the 
time each member of the family is fitted out, the ex- 
chequer is more than exhausted, and he is obliged to 
go in debt for a while. But the smiling members of 
Ketchem & Cheatham, where all the necessary pur- 
chases are made, assure the nearly demented head 
of the family they are always ready to give credit 
to army officers, and will cheerfully await his con- 
venience to settle his bill, and there is nothing for 
him to do but accept their offer, much as the debt 
disturbs him. Then begins a system of economy and 
pinching until the last dollar is paid, and Second 
Lieutenant Napoleon Smith walks proudly away, a 
free man once more. 

The day came at last when all was ready for us to 
leave Fort Union, — trunks packed and locked, the 
last screws put into the lids of the great wooden 



1 68 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

chests, the wagons loaded, and the ambulance at the 
door. 

We bade our motley crowd of domestics " Adios." 
None were going with us. Our many kind friends 
came to wish us " bon voyage," and we were off. 

My sixth journey across the Plains was over a new 
route to us, and I was glad of any variation of the 
scene which was so familiar to me. Our escort was 
small, considering the danger we ran in going through 
a country full of Indians, but though the party was 
not large, it was exceeding wary and ever on the 
lookout. 

My eyes, from long practice, were as keen as a 
frontiersman's, and nothing escaped them. I saw 
everything unusual, near or far. A dust, a little 
smoke, an animal off the road, all came in for its 
share of investigation through the field-glass. 

Next to my fear of Indians, I dreaded crossing 
rivers more than anything else. Some of the fords 
were reached by a steep and dangerous road, leading 
from the top of a bank to the water's edge, down 
which the cautious driver guided his sure-footed 
team. Sometimes there was a drop of a foot or two 
from the bank into the swift-running stream. Then 
I clasped my hands and shut my eyes tight, but never 
a sound escaped me. The children were too much 
absorbed with what was going on to notice me. 
With shouts and yells the mules were rushed through 
the water, men on horseback riding beside them to 
keep them in the track ; the air was blue with the 
profanity thought necessary when driving mules. 

The last agony was in the effort made to reach the 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 69 

top of the wet and slippery straight- up-and-down 
bank on the other side, and this feat was accompHshed 
with even more noise than before, the shouts and 
cracking of whips making an appalling din. 

The mules seemed to enjoy the uproar, and could 
hardly have done their work without it. I think they 
understood perfectly what was said to them, they 
looked so knowing and sensible : the teamsters always 
talked to them as if they were human, and the mule 
intimated he was aware of what was said and would 
act accordingly. Did you ever see a team in which 
there was not a Pete or John, Bet, Jane, or Kate ? 

When the ambulance stopped at the top of the 
opposite bank, which the mules, panting and half 
drowned, managed at last to reach, I opened my eyes 
with a feeling of gratitude that one stream, at least, 
had been safely crossed. 

It had been decided that our best route East would 
be via Denver. The road ran through Trinidad, 
Pueblo, and Colorado Springs, all small settlements 
at that time. The scenery in Colorado was magnifi- 
cent, but it takes a more gifted pen than mine to tell 
of the wonderful things all around us. I was far 
more interested just then in avoiding Indians, and 
having a comfortable place where we could pass the 
night, than in the glories of Pike's Peak or Garden 
of the Gods. 

We usually found a substantial log house at the 
end of our day's travel, where we were allowed to 
stay by paying for the room. It was not a " one- 
price" country then, for the rates charged by one 
man were no guide as to what we would be called 



170 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

Upon to pay next night. We paid but fifty cents for 
lodgings at a very nice house, while the following 
day six dollars was not thought too much to ask for 
quarters not as good. Of course these charges were 
for a room and fire only, — we provided our own beds 
and meals. 

The surroundings of the houses where we spent 
the nights were most picturesque, — groves of trees 
and gigantic rocks of singular formation were to be 
found everywhere, to the great delight of the children, 
who were tired after being shut up in the ambulance 
so many hours daily, and quite ready when we 
stopped to have a good romp before bedtime. We 
found them, late one evening, high up on an enormous 
pulpit-shaped rock, playing church. 

We reached Denver in a bHnding snow-storm, and 
drove to the best hotel in the city. No one thought 
it the least curious to see us arrive in a four-mule 
ambulance, followed by a military escort and several 
big wagons. As I remarked before, such sights were 
common out West. 

After resting a day or two in Denver we started 
again, making for the end of the railroad, which was 
somewhere between Cheyenne and Julesburg. The 
prospect of exchanging the ambulance and tents for 
a Pullman car was most agreeable, especially as the 
weather was cold and we were liable to have snow- 
storms any day. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER, I7I 



XXVII 

We were greatly disappointed when we reached 
Cheyenne, not to find some kind of hotel or lodging- 
house where we could be accommodated. Any 
shelter from the wintry blast would have been a lux- 
ury, — anything more substantial than a tent to keep 
out the bitter cold. There was every prospect of a 
blizzard by night, but I believe that name had not 
been coined then to suit the storm. 

The only thing in the way of an hotel or a restau- 
rant in the town was a long building of boards, ten 
or twelve feet high, surmounted by sloping rafters 
covered with canvas, which formed the roof. It had 
been used originally for a theatre, but I suppose a 
restaurant was more necessary, and it became an 
eating-house. Our tents were pitched just outside 
of it, when we found there was nothing better to be 
done. It was not until night, after the children had 
gone to bed, that the storm broke upon us in all its 
fury. The tent shook violently with the wind, and 
in a little while the outside was covered with a sheet 
of snow and ice. With all that was going on out- 
side, you may imagine the inside was none too warm 
nor comfortable, and the colonel thought no better 
time could be found to open a bottle of fine cham- 
pagne than then. It was done, and the wine poured 



172 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

into two tin cups, one for each. No ice was needed 
to cool it that, night. It was the best champagne I 
ever tasted in my Hfe, I think. 

The storm grew worse, and it seemed as if the tent 
must fall upon us. The colonel determined to go 
again into the restaurant and ask if they could not in 
some way accommodate us, as it was really unsafe to 
remain where we were. The family occupying the 
building insisted it was impossible to do anything for 
us. Husband after that took matters into his own 
hands, and carried the children in, I following. As 
soon as I caught my breath, after my rush through 
the gale and sleet, I took in an amazing picture. 

On what had been the stage of the theatre, with 
the rough scenery all about her, sat a pleasant-look- 
ing woman placidly sewing beside a bright light, and 
with her foot rocking a cradle in which was a young 
baby. She seemed perfectly at home amid the indigo- 
blue clouds, frowning castles, and vivid green daubs 
supposed to resemble trees. 

When we were actually in the place there was 
nothing more to be said, and the woman, who did 
not seem at all disconcerted by our abrupt entrance, 
began at once to see what arrangements she could 
make for us. 

Below the stage, and off to one side of it, was a 
bedstead standing on a platform just large enough 
to hold it. I suppose there was no floor in the 
building, and that is why the bed stood on a few 
boards. All was surrounded by canvas, painted 
to represent a red-brick wall, with a massive door, 
also painted, on the side. One bed was all they 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1/3 

could give us ; likely it was usually occupied by sev- 
eral members of the family. Even had we brought 
in our own, there was no place to put it. Some fur 
robes and blankets were laid under the bedstead for 
the children, the only spot there was. 

I took the youngest with me, and the other two 
crawled into their uncomfortable furry nest, not the 
least disturbed by their peculiar resting-place. The 
colonel remained in the tent, on guard, all night. 
An attempt was made to steal the mules, and had he 
not been on the spot it would have been successful. 

We remained in the restaurant some days before 
leaving Cheyenne. Although' the badly-built shanty 
was not much protection against the intensely cold 
weather, we could get our meals there, which was 
better than having to look after the cooking of them 
myself. 

Our next move was from Cheyenne to the end 
of the railroad, where we parted with the escort, am- 
bulance, etc., and took passage on a freight-train, 
occupying the caboose, which was to take us to 
Julesburg, where we would find the regular train and 
a Pullman car. 

The night we passed in the caboose was an uneasy 
one. We came to a halt for hours, and I overheard 
a man ask another what caused the detention. His 
Job's comforter told him the Indians had torn up the 
track some miles ahead, which turned out to be 
untrue; but that trouble was always apprehended 
was apparent from the stacks of firearms on all 
trains. 

The sight of a passenger-train was delightful, and 
15* 



J 1/4 ^ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

vit the sleeper we found Lieutenant John W. Bubb 
and wife, just from Fort Fetterman, and going East 
on leave. Their experiences at that extremely iso- 
lated fort were thrilling, with hostile Indians always 
so close it was scarcely safe to go out of doors. 

We travelled to Omaha together, and no back- 
woodsman ever enjoyed a first car-ride more than we 
did the one we were then taking in the comfortable 
Pullman, after our late camping in the cold. 

At Omaha we rested several days, Colonel Lane 
being quite broken down. 

Mrs. Bubb and I, woman-hke, went out to see the 
fashions, and took a look at some bonnets "just from 
the East, very latest styles," we were told. It had 
been 'so long since we needed a bonnet, or had seen 
one of the " latest/' we were, of course, much in- 
terested. We took up one, but could not tell front 
from back. The Fanchon was worn then, and was a 
puzzle to an uneducated mind. After what we saw, 
we decided that we did not care for a bonnet until 
we reached home. 

When Colonel Lane was better we started again. 
At the time of which I write there were no " buffet 
cars," nor even regular eating-houses on our route. 
Sometimes notice was given that at the next station 
" twenty minutes for dinner" would be allowed. We 
always carried our camp lunch-box with us, full of 
provisions, not particularly good, but well enough to 
quiet the pangs of hunger. We found it useless and 
expensive to try to take the children to a twenty- 
minute meal; by the time they had looked about 
them, it was too late to eat anything, so we gave it 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 75 

up. The colonel, usually, was the only one who left 
the cars to get a meal, but he went armed with a 
towel and tin coffee-pot, and, after hurrying through 
his dinner, brought us more provisions than we could 
possibly dispose of. He, poor man, never had a 
** square meal" when we travelled, but we could sup- 
ply all deficiencies from what he provided for us. 

When everything was ready for our luncheon, 
spread out as it was on the seats of the car, we ate it 
comfortably, utterly indifferent as to what other pas- 
sengers thought or said. They stared at us, and no 
doubt took us for foreign emigrants. I dare say our 
appearance was singular, our clothes unfashionable, 
and faces weather-beaten. 

We remained a year in the East, and before return- 
ing to the frontier placed our eldest daughter at 
school, there being no good ones in New Mexico, 
except the convent in Santa Fe, where we did not 
care to send her. So our little family circle was 
broken. It was dreadful to put a whole month be- 
tween her and us, but it had to be done. 

In November, 1868, we left for New Mexico, via 
Texas. It was the only route practicable just then, 
for the Indians on the Plains were very hostile, and 
too late in the year, besides, to attempt to travel with 
children in the latitude where snow came so early. 

We halted a day in Louisville, Kentucky, then 
took a sleeper through to New Orleans, hoping to 
catch a steamer for Galveston the morning after our 
arrival. 

But no one seemed to be in a hurry but us, and 
several cars loaded with mules were attached to our 



176 / MARRIED A SOLDIER, 

train, in consequence of which we were nineteen 
hours late, and had to wait in New Orleans two days 
before another ship left for Texas. We stayed at the 
St. Charles Hotel until she sailed, when we went 
aboard of her, and I crossed the Gulf of Mexico for 
the third time. 

Not being at all fond of *' bounding over the glad 
waters of the dark blue sea," I was pleased to reach 
Galveston, then a pretty town of many white houses 
with green *' blinds," the gardens filled with oleanders 
and orange-trees. As one of the children was in- 
disposed, we remained several days. From Galves- 
ton to Houston we travelled by boat, and from 
Houston to Brenham on a wretched railroad, the 
only one in Texas. 

We met a gentleman and his wife from Philadel- 
phia, en route to San Antonio, seeking health ; but 
they found so much discomfort at the stopping- 
places, — there were no ** hotels," — that they almost 
decided to give up the trip. But at Brenham we 
were able to charter a stage, so that we need not 
travel at night, and were more comfortable. 

The roads were in a dreadful condition, as much 
rain had fallen recently, and it was often late at night 
when we stopped. The houses were so open to the 
winds that blew, we had to protect ourselves as well 
as we could from them by tacking up shawls and 
blankets around the beds. . 

At a small lodging-place we found but one room 
with fire. There were two beds in it, and as that 
was all to be had, we took one, and our friends the 
other. Imagine their horror when told we must 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 77 

share the same apartment ! As it was by no means 
our first experience at being so situated, we were not 
shocked in the least. We had many a quiet laugh 
over the evident unhappiness of the Philadelphians at 
such very close quarters. 

Next day, when we drove up to a house of enter- 
tainment, we found the host and his family cowering 
over a fire, doors open and windows broken, although 
it was raining and cold. 

Not a place about the house had been put to rights 
since having been occupied the night before, and only 
when we arrived and wanted rooms did they make 
an effort to put them in order.' 

We were so exhausted by the time everything 
was ready, we had no spirit left to cavil at small 
discomforts. 



,7§ 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 



XXVIII 

The following day we landed at the "Avenue 
Hotel," in Austin, the best there was at that time, 
but our room was cheerless, — no carpet, two beds, 
wash-stand, stove, table without a cover, and a few 
hide-bottom chairs. The fare was good and clean, 
and prices very high. 

A wet norther struck the town in a day or two, and 
everything was flooded. The water leaked through 
the ceiling of our room, falling on the beds, and we 
were awakened in the night by the baby calling for 
" a rumella, 'cause it was wainin'." The storm ceased 
next morning, and the waters subsided, which was 
fortunate; the town was inundated, roads impassable 
from washouts, and the streets torn up by the mighty 
deluge that rushed through them, losing itself in the 
river below the town. 

We met many army people stationed in Texas that 
winter ; some of the ladies knew everything there was 
to be learned on matters military. They made us 
smile at the extent of their wisdom. I felt old fogy 
among them, and concluded I was the one who knew 
nothing. Many women spoke of " our regiment" 
and " our troop" (or company), as if they had com- 
mand. I found I was far behind the times, believing, 
as I always had, that the less a woman knew %\ 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. ifg 

military affairs, and what went on in garrison, the 
better for all. 

General and Mrs. Canby were there also ; I had 
not seen them since we left Santa Fe in 1861. She 
was a lovely, cultivated woman, with plenty of good 
common sense, and admired by all. 

We remained a month in Austin, waiting for news 
of our carriage and furniture, shipped from Philadel- 
phia to Indianola, Texas. At the end of that time 
we heard the vessel had arrived, and that our goods 
had been sent to San Antonio. So we said good-by 
to our friends, and in a broken-down ambulance, with 
a team of four mules to correspond, we left for San 
Antonio. A weary, dismal drive we had for four 
days, through oceans of water and rivers of mud. 

Perhaps some of you have ridden all day in a leaky 
ambulance through the cold rain, the tired mules 
ready to give out at any moment while making 
desperate efforts to pull you through mud up to the 
wheel-hubs. Did you like it ? 

The driver had no overcoat, and suffered in conse- 
quence. The colonel was too sick to assist with the 
mules as he usually did, so he kept the man warm 
internally with frequent doses of brandy, to which 
he did not object, nor did he once make a wry face 
at the medicine. 

When at last we caught a glimpse of San Antonio 
we were much relieved, and more so when we were 
comfortably fixed at the Menger Hotel. It was some 
time before the wagon-train arrived from the coast 
with our property, and we had ample time to adver- 
tise for servants who would go with us to New Mex- 



l80 ' J MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

ico/ A colored man and woman applied for the placCj 
and we were obliged to take them. Could we have 
read the future, he and she would have remained in 
San Antonio unto this day, as far as we were con- 
cerned. 

February 3, 1869, we left San Antonio for Fort 
Bliss, where Colonel Lane expected to find orders 
assigning him to a post in New Mexico. Our route 
was over a part of Texas we had not travelled before. 
One hundred and fifteen miles from San Antonio was 
Fort Mason, a small but pretty post, not then garri- 
soned. Fort Concho came next, a new post, still 
unfinished. It was built on the prairie, and struck 
me as gloomy in the extreme. Here we were for- 
tunate enough to meet that good fellow " Jakey Gor- 
don," whose quarters were immediately turned over 
to us. They were of canvas, but larger than ordi- 
nary wall-tents, stretched over a frame, roomy and 
comfortable. The water at the fort was bad, and the 
heat in summer almost insupportable. 

Between Fort Concho and Fort Stockton we crossed 
a part of " Llano Estacado," or ** Staked Plain," in- 
expressibly dreary, and, but for the buffalo hunts, 
desolate and uninteresting ; but we had plenty of ex- 
citement when the horsemen went out after the huge, 
awkward animals, driving them close to the road, so 
that we saw the chase and were almost in at the 
death. I preferred to be safely in the carriage when 
a herd of buffalo was at hand, and saw all I cared to 
from my coigne of vantage. After the buffalo was 
killed the great carcass was cut up and stowed in one 
of the wagons until camp was reached, when all who 



/ MARRIED A SOLD IE Jh l8l 

wanted fresh meat were supplied. To me it was tough 
as leather and uninviting. They told me I did not 
have a good piece and that I must try the hump, ^ 
which was said to be very tender. I had eaten some 
of the hump, or attempted to do so, with no better 
success ; the more I chewed the larger it grew. The 
children and colonel managed to get rid of their 
portion and professed to enjoy it, but my opinion 
never changed. The tongue was tender, but no other 
part that I ever tried. 

The Pecos River was between us and Fort Stock- 
ton, and, on account of the quicksands, dangerous to 
ford. When we reached " Hofsehead Crossing" one 
Sunday morning, it was thought safest for the chil- 
dren and me, and my valuable maid, to ride over in 
one of the wagons, as the ambulance, being compar- 
atively light, was likely to upset or float down stream, 
either of which would have been disagreeable. Ropes 
were tied to the wheels and held by mounted men, 
but even- then it rolled from side to side, so that I did 
not care to look at it until it was safely on the other 
bank. 

The sheet on one of the heavy wagons was thrown 
back, and we mounted to the top of the load. The 
colonel disposed of all surplus clothing and his 
boots, taking up a position on the tongue of the 
wagon, to be ready in case of emergency. 

Then came the plunge into the treacherous, rapid 
stream, and the wagon trembled and careened as it 
struck the quicksands. The teamsters coaxed and 
scolded, urged and swore at the mules, to prevent 
them stopping short of the opposite side of the river. 

i6 



1 82 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

I shut my eyes, and ears too. In the same team 
some of the mules were almost out of the water while 
others were nearly under it, caused by the quicksand 
shifting and changing position, thus making the cross- 
ing unsafe. 

I could not help thinking what a sight we should 
have been that beautiful Sunday morning to our East- 
ern friends, then quietly seated in church, if they 
could have watched us fording the Pecos River. If 
they had not known who we were, they would never 
have recognized us, dressed for camping, and riding 
emigrant fashion, in a wagon. 

We were seven days going from Fort Concho to 
Fort Stockton, where we arrived cold and tired. 
Colonel and Mrs. Wade came to our relief, and enter- 
tained us while we stayed at the post. 

One day a pet prairie-dog attacked Mrs. Wade's 
young baby during the absence of the family from 
the room : it climbed up on the bed and scratched 
the little face and head. The child's cries brought 
the mother and everybody from the dining-table, and 
there sat the small animal by the baby, tearing the 
tender flesh with its needle-like claws. It had never 
seemed vicious before, and never had an opportu- 
nity to be so again. 

Fort Stockton had improved wonderfully since my 
sister and I did our washing there, on a Sunday 
morning, ten years before^ but I did not care to stay 
long. 

At Fort Davis we remained a day, to rest and put 
everything in order. Our man, the incomparable 
colored one who came with us from San Antonio, 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER, 1 83 

took that opportunity to clean and load his revolver, 
when, without warning, it went off, cutting a hole in 
the felt hat he wore. If the ball had stopped short 
of the hat it might have been bad for William, but 
the world would have had one rascal the less. There 
was a heavy snow-storm that day, which made camp 
more than unpleasant. 

In the Limpia Caiion, or Wild Rose Pass, in the 
vicinity of Fort Davis, there was some beautiful 
scenery. I cannot now remember just how far from 
the fort this dangerous pass was, but it had always 
been a noted hiding-place for Indians, and many a 
careless traveller had cause to' repent his lack of vigi- 
lance while going through it. Indeed, the whole road 
from Limpia Canon to Fort Quitman had been the 
scene of repeated tragedies. Only a month before we 
passed over it, the stage, carrying a passenger and 
the United States mail, had been attacked by Indians, 
the driver killed, and Judge Hubbell, a man well 
known in Texas and New Mexico, either murdered or 
captured ; the mail was cut to pieces and the coach 
destroyed. A wooden cross, with his name upon it, 
marked the spot where the body of the driver was 
found. The date "January, 1869," was also cut 
upon the cross. 

It made me shudder to think what a short time 
had elapsed since that desperate, hopeless struggle 
took place, two brave men fighting for life against an 
unknown number of devils. 

I was riding in the buggy one day when the guard 
came up to report that a number of Indians had been 
seen not far away. I was ordered into the ambulance, 



1 84 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

and hasty preparations were made to give them a 
proper reception, should they attempt to attack us ; 
but they, like ourselves, perhaps, assumed the defen- 
sive, rather than the aggressive. The Indian rarely 
made war unless certain of victory, which he followed 
up with untold atrocities. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 85 



XXIX 

On the day the Indians were seen we were to reach 
Eagle Spring, a spot where many bloody battles had 
been fought between white men and Indians. It was 
the usual camp-ground, as no water was found again 
until we reached the Rio Grande, thirty miles away. 

The spring was some distance up a gorge, at the 
foot of a mountain ; the ground was rough and rocky, 
so that any number of Indians could hide until an 
opportunity arrived to make an attack. Small par- 
ties camped on the plain, beside the road, and, with 
sentinels out to keep watch, drove the animals to the 
spring for water and then back to camp. 

Our horses and mules were watered, then hitched 
up and driven ten miles farther, when a dry camp was 
made for the night, thus taking ten miles off our next 
day's march of thirty miles to the Rio Grande. It 
was very late, and all were busy in various ways, and 
preparations were made to secure the camp against 
any attack the Indians might make. 

The mules were turned out for what grazing they 
could find before being fastened to the wagons for 
the night. After a while it was discovered that they 
with the herders and sentinels were getting too far 
from camp, and orders were sent for them to come 
in at once. 

16* 



1 86 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

When our tents were in order we called the chil- 
dren, who had a few moments before been playing 
close by. Only one responded ; the boy was no- 
where to be seen. For a little while there was great 
consternation ; the camp was searched, but without 
avail ; it began to look as if he had been spirited away 
in the darkness. Just when the excitement was be- 
coming too intense to bear, the mules were driven in, 
and there, sitting in front of one of the herders, with 
a great whip in his hand, was the child, radiantly 
happy, and evidently believing he had charge of the 
herd. But there were no more expeditions of that 
kind made without our express permission. A little 
child in camp or garrison could always do as it 
pleased with the men, no matter how rough the latter 
might be. Had anything happened to that baby boy, 
every man there would have given his life for the 
child. 

When we sighted the Rio Grande, five miles below 
Fort Quitman, a sense of relief took the place of my 
recent uneasiness and fear ; and when we drove into 
the forlorn and tumble-down adobe-built fort, I 
wanted to greet everybody as a friend and brother. 
The troops stationed there were colored, and as we 
passed the guard-house I noticed a sergeant in full 
dress, jumping rope! I felt rather shocked to see a 
soldier in uniform so disporting himself, but con- 
cluded if any one at Quitman could feel cheerful 
enough to enjoy so innocent a pastime he was to be 
congratulated. 

From Quitman to Fort Bliss the journey was com- 
paratively a safe one. There were several Mexican 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 8/ 

settlements, and the wretched huts were objects of 
interest, especially when their occupants turned out 
to look at us ; the life about the villages, still as it was, 
was pleasant. We had not seen a living thing, ex- 
cept at the garrisons through which we passed, be- 
yond a prairie-dog or an occasional crow and some 
Indians in the distance, since we left the Staked 
Plains, where vast herds of buffalo were grazing on 
every side, happy in their freedom and roaming over 
the unsettled country for hundreds of miles. 

It seemed to me I knew every stone and bush on 
the lonely road from Fort Davis to the Rio Grande, 
and I think even yet I would remember some of them. 

It would be a pleasure to me to travel that route 
now in a palace car on the railroad, dashing over 
those dreary camp-grounds, with whistles shriek- 
ing and headlights blazing, waking the echoes and 
illuminating the country far and wide. For when 
we travelled with small parties we were afraid to 
speak loud, or have a fire or light, lest we attract the 
attention of the Indians, never far away. 

That time has gone forever, and those tedious 
marches need not be made again, I always enjoyed 
them when our escort was sufficiently large to give 
a feeling of perfect security, but more often than not 
they were too small, and the risks we ran were very 
great, but there seemed to be no help for it, and I 
suffered mentally in consequence. You will think I 
was a dreadful coward ; but put yourself in my place, 
you woman, and would you have felt any braver than 
I did ? When brought face to face with danger, 
as I have been on more than one occasion, I flatter 



1 88 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

myself I behaved pretty well, being outwardly, at 
least, very cool and quiet. What I felt need not be 
mentioned here. 

The Fort Bliss of 1869 was not the one we knew 
and enjoyed so much. Great inroads had been made 
by the Rio Grande : some of the buildings were 
washed away, so that the old post was abandoned, 
and the garrison moved to quarters a mile away. 
Our old house still stood, but the roof had fallen in. 
The others were masses of crumbling adobe. What 
changes had taken place since we were all so happy 
there a few years before ! 

We remained a day or two at Bliss, until Colonel 
Lane's orders were received, to proceed to Fort Sel- 
den. New Mexico, and take command. It was a new 
post, since the war, not far from Fort Fillmore. 

We had been thirty-four days on the road from 
San Antonio to Fort Bliss, but we only travelled 
twenty-nine of them ; the other five were spent at the^ 
forts en route^ for rest, repairs, etc. 

On our way to Fort Selden we passed within sight 
of old Fort Fillmore. As far as we could discover, 
the adobe quarters had returned to the dust of which 
they were made ; not one house was left standing. 
. Our new station was a quiet, rather unattractive 
place, garrisoned by one company of colored infan- 
try and one of white cavalry. The commanding 
officer's quarters were not nearly finished. I believe 
there were only four rooms ready when we arrived, 
but they were larger and better than a tent, and we 
were not long in getting into them. The house was 
square, built of adobe, with, if I remember aright, four 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 89 

rooms on each side of a wide hall. Our porch was 
of brush laid across poles, and supported by the same, 
— a fine harbor for snakes, scorpions, and such things, 
but they did not annoy us much. There were four 
ladies there, none of whom are now in the army. 
They were not friendly with each other, but I, coming 
as a stranger among them, was kindly received, and 
we Hved most harmoniously together as long as we 
remained. It was, indeed, a dull little place. 

We owned horses, mules, and vehicles of various 
kinds, but on account of Indians it was unsafe to ride 
a mile from the post ; and when we drove as far as we 
dared go, there was always a loaded revolver in the 
carriage. We rode a good deal, notwithstanding, in 
our Hght buggy, with a horse that could outrun any 
that an Indian was likely to own. 

That summer I determined to make butter and 
raise chickens, and I succeeded remarkably well^ 
considering all things. I do not believe the famous 
butter-makers of Pennsylvania could have done any 
better than I did under the circumstances. There 
was no ice, remember, and no cool, sparkling spring 
at hand. I took care of the milk myself, saving all 
the cream I could spare for the butter. The cows 
were not the best, but good for that country. My 
churn was primitive, — only a large stone jar, which 
held about three gallons. A soldier-carpenter made 
the top and dasher of pine wood, and a rough job it 
was. 

The water we used at Fort Selden was brought 
fresh every morning from the muddy Rio Grande, and 
emptied into barrels kept for the purpose. It was 



190 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

of the color of rich chocolate. To settle enough for 
drinking, it was poured into large, porous earthen 
jars, holding several gallons each. By degrees the 
impurities sank to the bottom of the jar, and the 
water oozed through it, keeping the contents quite 
cool. 

Ours were covered with pieces of blanket which 
retained the moisture, and they were placed on a 
bench in which holes were cut for the purpose of 
holding them. This bench was kept in the shadiest, 
coolest spot to be found ; but the weather at Selden 
was very hot, so that the water was not often what 
one would desire. It was the best we had, though, 
to wash and cool the butter, which sometimes was 
like oil when freshly churned. Frequently I found 
it impossible to separate the butter and milk. I would 
then put the jar aside for the night, and next day in 
the cool of the morning I finished my dairy work. 

Years ago I heard that all the butter procurable 
at army posts in Arizona had to be poured from a 
bottle, so it seems people there were worse off than 
we were in New Mexico, and had fewer advantages. 

In about four months, under many difficulties, I 
made about one hundred and fifty pounds of butter, 
a good deal of which I packed down for future use. 

The man and woman we took with us from San 
Antonio were worthless ; it seems there had been 
some love-making between them, and the opportunity 
offered them by us to see the world and visit pastures 
new was not to be despised. Before we reached 
Selden the man was discharged for theft, and the 
maid might have been sent off for the same reason, 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. I9I 

but there was not another woman to be hired, so I 
was obliged to keep her. She was amiable, if she 
did break more than one of the commandments. 
We were obliged to overlook many vagaries and 
eccentricities of deportment, if we hoped to keep a 
maid on the frontier at that time. A woman of any 
kind was thought better than none. 



192 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 



XXX 

When travelling along the road below Fort Davis, 
a white man, mounted on the smallest of ponies, 
joined us, after asking permission to do so. He was 
a bright fellow, and we allowed him to stay about the 
tents, feeding him for what he did, and he was always 
working at something. 

When the colored man was discharged we put the 
stranger, Isaac Bloomfield, in his place, and an ex- 
cellent hand he proved to be at almost everything. 
He was an Englishman, and had been in the English 
navy, where, he told me, he " got more kicks than 
ha'-pence." 

When we could no longer close our eyes to the 
delinquencies of our maid, we told her we had no 
further use for her valuable services, and she left; so 
Isaac was installed as cook. He did all the house- 
work, except making the beds ; if I had permitted it, 
he would have done that too. The children were 
devoted to him, and he to them. He was quite a 
good plain cook ; perhaps I was not very critical, 
infinitely preferring his cooking to my own. 

One of my pastimes on the frontier was the care 
of chickens, gathering the ^g%?>, setting hens, etc. I 
went many times a day into the coop to look at and 
talk to my favorites. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 93 

Before the maid left us she heard a great commo- 
tion one night in the chicken-house ; though lacking 
in sundry virtues, she was courageous, apparently, 
for she went unattended to find out the cause of the 
disturbance. On opening the door she was startled 
to see a small coyote killing the chickens right and 
left. She ran into the house to tell the colonel, who, 
armed with his revolver, went with her, she going 
ahead, holding the candle aloft. They bearded the 
lion in his den ; in other words, the coyote in the 
chicken-coop. Mary was more afraid of the report 
of the pistol than of the wolf She jumped at every 
shot, almost dropping the light in her excitement. 

It took but a few seconds to dispose of the wretched 
beast. Mad with hunger, he had crawled through a 
small opening in the main door of the coop which I 
had forgotten to shut that night. He killed a number 
of my setting-hens, they being in nests close to the 
ground, while the others, roosting high, were out of 
reach. When discovered he had not begun his feast, 
but was making ready with a liberal hand. It hurt 
my feelings to see so many of my precious chickens 
dead ; but as their destroyer was dead, too, I was 
somewhat consoled. 

Our table was well supplied with eggs and the 
chickens I raised, but it was always a difficult matter 
to kill them, the children begging that the life of this 
pretty white hen or that beautiful red rooster might 
be spared ; the only way was to have it done without 
their knowledge. 

As the summer went by, the rooms in the house 
were finished one by one, so that we had a place to 
I n 17 



194 I MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

put any visitors who came that way ; but they did not 
seem to have much business at Selden, for I only 
remember having two guests, Colonels Bridgeman 
and Carey, paymasters. 

I never objected to entertaining men ; they were 
easily pleased, and willing to make due allowance 
for lack of variety of dainties in the larder. I must 
confess to a feeling of uneasiness when the wives 
came too, lest they might not be satisfied with our 
very plain style of housekeeping. We had very little 
furniture, and those things which the quartermaster 
could not supply we tried to make ourselves, or used 
something that answered the same purpose. For 
instance, one of our washstands was made of a small 
hogshead, in which some china had been packed. 
It was turned upside down, and round it I tacked a 
white muslin drapery ; then, with a large towel spread 
over the top, the effect was good, especially when the 
pretty toilet articles were placed upon it. We made 
a table in the same way, and this kind of simplicity 
answered for ourselves, but I think some of the lady 
visitors might not have been quite pleased with such 
primitive arrangements. 

At the end of four months, the colonel's health 
failed so rapidly the doctor told him he must not 
only leave Fort Selden, but New Mexico, and he 
must lose no time in going. 

We arranged our affairs to start immediately, and 
had an auction of the furniture, etc., we did not care 
to keep ; in fact, we retained only such things as were 
absolutely necessary. The high prices realized at our 
sale were absurd, and I was actually ashamed when 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 95 

articles were bid up far beyond their value. Our 
cook-stove, which cost us about forty-five dollars, 
sold for eighty. My sewing-machine, for which I 
paid less than forty, brought one hundred dollars, 
and everything went at the same rate. A large tin can,- 
which was full of lard when we left San Antonio, had 
a i^\N pounds still in it, and it sold for more than the 
original cost. You see those were the days when 
freight was carried from the States in wagons, and 
sent all over New Mexico ; and the cost of transpor- 
tation, added to the price of the article you wished to 
purchase, made it very expensive, so that what was 
paid to us was much less than the merchants would 
have charged for the same thing. Our freight was 
taken from the coast to Nev/ Mexico in government 
wagons, so that it cost us no more than the original 
price and the transportation from Philadelphia to 
Texas by sea. 

After Isaac became our cook we bought his pony. 
It was sold also, and as it brought more than we paid 
for it, we divided the surplus with him, which pleased 
him greatly. 

We were much relieved to find that we not only 
had not lost by our auction, but made money; and, 
as another expensive expedition was before us, we 
were glad to have enough for our wants. We had 
just begun to recover financially from our last jour- 
ney to New Mexico, via Texas, and if our sale had 
failed to supply part of the sum required for the one 
about to be taken, we would have been forced to bor- 
row money to pay expenses. To have a debt hanging 
over us Ion"; would have driven me insane, I believe. 



196 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

I think only two officers who were at Fort Sel- 
den at that time are now in the army, Captains Rus- 
sell and Elting. Dr. Seguin, one of the physicians 
stationed there, is now living in New York, and very 
eminent and skilful. I suppose he has forgotten the 
experiments he delighted to make with toads and 
ravens, feeding deadly poisons to them, some of which 
had no effect whatever. Selden was a fine field for 
one who desired to test the efficacy of certain drugs 
on toads, for the place was swarming with them, so 
that I disliked going out of doors at night, at which 
time they took possession of every walk and road 
about the place. You were sure, almost, if you 
stepped outside your door, to feel a soft, wriggling 
mass under your foot. With a screech you jumped 
to the other side, only to land on a second toad ; by 
that time you were ready to go home. 

One beautiful July morning we drove away from 
Fort Selden with not one pang of regret, and dry- 
eyed. We were bound for Santa Fe, and our faithful 
Isaac was with us, as overseer in general and in 
charge of the culinary department in particular. 
There was sorrow in our first camp. Our beautiful 
buggy horse fell sick, and died in a few hours. The 
tears we failed to shed that morning when leaving 
Selden flowed freely for him at night. 

Science and human energy had wrought a wonder- 
ful change in the " Jornado del Muerto" since we 
made that anxious and exciting night march across 
it in July, 1 86 1. 

About in the centre of it an artesian well had been 
sunk, and an abundance of good water was the result. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 1 9/ 

A comfortable ranch was built, with a high stockade 
about it for protection, and strangers who desired to 
remain were given accommodations. It was really 
an oasis in the desert. All government animals and 
employes used the water without charge, but it was 
sold to citizen travellers. 

We drove along the old familiar road without inci- 
dent or accident, except the upsetting of one of the 
wagons while going down a very steep hill. I was 
perfectly unmoved when I saw it turn a somersault, 
knowing there was nothing in it that could be in- 
jured. All the good china and small amount of fur- 
niture we had was disposed of before leaving Fort 
Selden, and there was nothing in our mess-chest but 
tin plates, cups without handles, dilapidated saucers, 
and dishes to match. 

One evening we camped on a high bluff, not far 
from a Pueblo or Indian village. The inhabitants 
were peaceful, law-abiding citizens, who as yet had 
not adopted the conventional evening-dress. Our 
camp in their immediate neighborhood was as good 
as a circus to them ; they fairly crowded about the 
tents, where preparations for supper were going on, 
which they watched with intense interest. 

Biscuit-dough was made up, cut out, and ready to 
be baked, coffee ground, etc. 

The air was hot ; storm-clouds lowered in the sky ; 
the Indians wore heavy blankets, at which I won- 
dered, but I was only a short time finding out there 
was not a vestige of clothing beneath them. While 
watching everything intently, the wearers were 
overcome with the heat, and away went the 

17* 



198 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

blankets until they cooled off sufficiently to replace 
them. 

Soon the wind began to blow in little ominous 
puffs, and the board with the unbaked biscuit upon it 
was carried into the tent, while all the articles lying 
around were hastily gathered up and put in a safe 
place, — none too soon, for the storm burst upon us 
suddenly, scattering the light red dust over every- 
thing inside and outside of the tent, ornamenting our 
pretty white unbaked biscuit with a coating of the 
finest red sand. 

My uninvited guests left hurriedly to seek shelter 
from the abundant showers that fell, and we were glad 
to have them go, though the cause of their hasty 
departure deprived us of our supper that night. 
Everything prepared was ruined, and had to be 
thrown away, so that we had nothing but stale bread 
to eat, which at least kept us from starving. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. I99 



XXXI 

As there were several Mexican and Indian settle- 
ments along the Rio Grande, the journey was much 
less tiresome than many we had made, where for 
hundreds of miles there was not a house to be seen 
in early days. 

Socorro was one of the towns through which we 
passed, and where we had stopped at the house of an 
American living there very comfortably. 

I remember an incident that happened once when 
going down the country. Some miles before we 
reached Socorro, the road ran over what was called 
the " Sand-Hills," where the travelling was slow and 
difficult, and the wagons fell behind the ambulance 
some little distance. 

I was riding with the colonel in the buggy, when 
our attention was attracted to the manoeuvres of some 
men on ponies, who were circling round and round 
on the low sand-hills, about six hundred yards to the 
right of us. There were, I suppose, twelve in all, and 
in true Indian fashion they wrapped their blankets 
about their bodies in thick folds before dashing up 
the road to meet us. Every one was certain they 
were Navajos from their actions. When I went back 
into the ambulance the driver assured me " Them 
was Navajos, because he had just been in their coun- 



200 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

try and knoived Vw," and he took his rifle in hand for 
business. The two or three soldiers with us had their 
rifles ready and cocked. The colonel was on the 
ground by the head of the horse, with his arm through 
the bridle and a revolver in his hand. For a few 
moments the suspense was awful ; no one in the am- 
bulance spoke, as we watched the supposed Indians 
galloping, with arms and legs working, to the top of 
the hill. 

When they saw our warlike attitude they shouted 
" Amigos" (friends), and affected much surprise that 
they were mistaken for Indians. They were " Mexi- 
canos," and meant no harm, — so they said. Prob- 
ably, if they had not found us as well prepared as we 
were to receive them, they would have attacked us 
for plunder or murder, as the case might be. 

When the matter was mentioned to the American 
in Socorro, he was very indignant, and said it had 
been done intentionally ; that the escort should have 
fired upon them, as they undoubtedly had designs 
upon us. 

So you see I was always anxious when travelling 
with small parties, and I am certain I had enough of 
" sudden fears" to turn my hair gray in a " single 
night ;" but in my case something more was required, 
for it has not changed color to this day, although I 
have had shocks sufficient to ruin my nervous system 
and whiten my locks. 

On another occasion we were going from Santa Fe 
to Fort Union, when we came to a place where the 
road forked. Just at that point was a burro (or don- 
key), seemingly just killed. I wondered that it should 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 20I 

be lying there, but could get no explanation from the 
colonel, or the escort, how it came to be dead on the 
road, although they knew all the circumstances from 
a traveller whom we had met. He said a party of 
Indians had crossed the road a little while before, and 
meeting a Mexican, murdered him and killed the 
burro, leaving its body on the spot to show others 
what might be their fate. I do not know what had 
been done with the body of the man ; we only saw 
the little dead burro. Every one was on the watch, 
until we were miles away from the place where the 
poor wretch had been murdered ; then I was told 
of it. 

When we reached Santa Fe in the summer of 1869, 
we obtained permission to occupy some empty quar- 
ters at Fort Marcy, where we decided to remain for 
a few months. The weather was perfect, — very different 
from that we had left at Fort Selden. 

Our scant allowance of furniture was arranged in 
the rooms in a few moments, and assuredly did not 
strike our visitors as being luxurious. Many no 
we doubt thought we were not even comfortable, 
but were quite content and very happy, although our 
only carpet was an old tent-fly, our beds four cots, 
making the room look like a ward in the hospital. Dr. 
Huntington said. At the window I tacked up a red 
army blanket for a curtain, and with two or three 
camp chairs you have the contents of the apart- 
ment. 

Army people were not surprised at the meagre 
display of adornment, but I thought civilians were 
rather startled ; however, I took no trouble to ex- 



202 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

plain, nor to apologize for appearances. I was not 
afraid of robbers, having nothing anybody would 
carry off. Our quarters were left to the mercy of any 
one who chose to enter. Isaac still presided in the 
kitchen, and kept the house in good order. 

Early in the fall (I believe it was), Annie, daughter 
of General Getty, U.S.A. was married to Charles 
McClure, U.S.A. The wedding was as brilliant as it 
was possible to have it at that time ; there was no 
railroad to bring flowers and dainties from " the 
States;" but the supper was very handsome and 
everybody was there to enjoy it. 

In 1869 we found the mail facilities much improved 
since our former visits to Santa Fe. There was a 
daily stage running to and from the end of the rail- 
road then being built towards New Mexico, a won- 
derful change from the monthly mail of yore. While 
on the frontier we received a great deal of our 
clothing through the mails, as express charges were 
very high, often amounting to more than the cost of 
the article received. 

When we were stationed at Fort Union I ordered 
a melodeon from Philadelphia, and on the box was 
marked distinctly, " to be sent by first wagon-train 
from Fort Riley, Kansas, to Fort Union, New Mex- 
ico." By some blunder it was ^ent out on the stage 
as express matter, and the charges were " fifty-three 
dollars." The melodeon cost fifty. 

The pleasure it gave me more than compensated 
for the large amount paid for getting it out. There 
was not then a piano at the post, and, although a 
melodeon is a mournful, grunty, wheezy instrument, 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 203 

a cross between an accordion and an indifferent organ, 
it was much better than nothing. 

When we left New Mexico it was bought from us 
for one htmdred dollars, to be used in a Protestant 
church in Santa Fe, then struggHng for a foothold, 
which it secured at last, after great perseverance. In 
it there is now a good organ. What has become of 
the melodeon since the advent of its more pretentious 
relation, I never heard. 

There were many pleasant army families in Santa 
Fe between the years 1866 and 1869. These, with 
the citizens, made a large circle of refined and culti- 
vated people. Among them were Governor and Mrs. 
Mitchell, Judge and Mrs. Slough, Judge and Mrs. 
Houghton, General Getty and family. Colonel and 
Mrs. A. B. Carey, Colonel and Mrs. Bridgman, Major 
Rucker, the Rochesters, Kobbes, Bells, Watts, Dr. 
Huntington and wife. Dr. McKee, Charles McClure 
and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Griffin, Mr. and Mrs. Elkins, 
Mr. and Mrs. Edgar, and many others whose names 
I cannot now recall. Altogether we had a charming 
society. 

I have scarcely more than mentioned that most 
important beast of burden in New Mexico, — the burro, 
or donkey. No load is too heavy nor awkward for 
him to cany, it seems. Wood was brought from the 
hills to the towns, cut and ready for the fire, fastened 
on his back and sides by raw-hide thongs. He was 
loaded down with masses of fodder, which left noth- 
ing to be seen of him but eyes, ears, and hoofs. In- 
deed, there was nothing to be transported that a 
Mexican did not strap to a burro ; very frequently 



204 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

two men rode the same little beast, guiding him by 
punches in the head and neck with a sharp stick. 

Nothing caused such agonizing fear in a mule as 
the sight of a loaded burro ; they did not recognize 
each other as brothers. Sometimes, when riding 
quietly along the road, we would come suddenly upon 
a drove of burros with their packs ; instantly the 
mules were terror-stricken, trying to push to the side 
of the road, or even to turn round, — anything to get 
away from those moving masses, the locomotive 
power of which they could not understand ; even the 
sight of the burro himself was not reassuring. It 
was a happy day for the children when wood was 
brought to the house on a burro. He was driven 
into the corral, where, by a dexterous pull at a raw- 
hide string, his load fell to the ground, and the patient 
Httle animal was relieved for a moment. But as soon 
as the wood was off his back the children were on it, 
and round and round they rode as long as the polite, 
lazy Mexican would stay, and he never seemed to be 
in a hurry. The burro's feelings were not consulted ; 
his labors were arduous, his pleasures few. Six years 
ago the burro was still carrying the same-heavy loads 
as of old, in Santa Fe, droves of them appearing in 
the narrow streets, closely followed by their owners, 
Mexicans and Indians, who seemed to have a won- 
derful faculty for keeping them in the path. Did one 
wander to the right or left, tempted by the sight of 
a morsel of paper or handful of shavings, off of 
which he hoped to lunch, he was soon made aware 
of his indiscretion by a punch from the sharp stick, 
and a vigorous " Shoo !" from his master, when he 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 20$ 

would again meekly join his companions, fully con- 
vinced of the folly, on his part, of trying to enjoy 
himself even in a mild way. 

As the fall advanced we decided to push on to 
Fort Union, where we were to make final prepara- 
tions to cross the Northern Plains for the seventh 
time. When our trunks and mess-chest were packed 
and beds rolled up we were ready to start, and I 
said farewell to Santa Fe, not dreaming of seeing it 
and " Old Baldy's" hoary head ever again, but we 
have been to the ancient city several times since. 

We remained at Fort Union some days. Before 
we left we were serenaded by the band of the Third 
Cavalry, formerly Mounted Rifles. 

After the music was over the soldiers drank to the 
health of their old officer and, as they expressed it, 
" his lady." 

The weather was delightful for travelling, though 
the nights were more than cool. Just as soon as 
Colonel Lane was well enough to go we were off. 

We remained a night and part of a day at Max- 
well's Ranch in the Ute country, the Indians coming 
and going about the house, evidently without restric- 
tion, so that they did not hesitate to walk right into 
our room when they saw the door open. One of 
them, a great tall chief, I offended mortally ; with 
majestic mien he strode into the house, rolled in his 
blanket and wearing on his head a tall black felt hat 
with a feather in it. After he had shaken hands with 
the colonel, — but taking no notice of me whatever, — 
I walked up to him and said, " Soldier," in Spanish. 
Staring at me with the utmost scorn, he sailed out of 

i8 



206 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

the room without a word. Whether he did not like 
to be called a soldier, or was indignant that a white 
squaw had spoken to him, I could not tell, but he 
did not return. 

A round piece of tin cut from a tomato-can, and 
thrown out of doors, afforded the greatest satisfaction 
to the fortunate finder, and he and a friend gravely 
discussed the question as to where it would show to 
best advantage, on scalp-lock, necklace, or bracelet. 

At Trinidad we found quite a village had sprung 
up, and a small tavern, where travellers were enter- 
tained. Like all new far Western towns, its repu- 
tation was most unsavory, and it was a question 
whether to stay in the house and run the risk of 
being robbed and murdered, or camp in the cold 
away from the town. We concluded we liked the 
shelter of four stout walls more than the airy ones 
of the tent, and went to the tavern. 

Every man you met wore, as a matter of course, a 
revolver and knife to be ready for all emergencies, 
quarrels being frequently brought about for the mere 
pleasure of fighting. One of the first things that 
struck me always when we reached civilization was 
the absence of the belt from a man's waist, in which 
he carried all kinds of weapons ; we were so accus- 
tomed to the sight on the frontier, I missed it. It 
was pleasant, though, to feel one might go half a mile 
from his home without running the risk of being 
murdered, and that it was not necessary to be always 
armed. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 20/ 



XXXII 

Our road ran through (or near) Fort Lyon, Colo- 
rado, where we spent a day at Colonel W. H. Pen- 
rose's pleasant home, and enjoyed the change and 
rest. 

At our first halting-place after leaving that post 
we were overtaken by Captain Yates and his troop of 
Seventh Cavalry. We stayed all night at the small 
board shanty used as a mail-station, occupying the 
state apartment, I suppose, for the walls were papered 
with illustrations from various pictorials. I had a sus- 
picion the pictures were put there more to keep out 
the wind — of which there is an undue allowance of 
kind and quality in Colorado — than to embellish the 
room. A bright 'and cheery little place it was, with 
windows that commanded a view of the country for 
miles in every direction, and the road along which 
travelled those brave cavalrymen with their much- 
loved captain at the head of the column. They were 
going our way for several days, and we were glad of 
the addition to our small escort, and sorry when the 
time came to separate. I never met Captain Yates 
again. He and his gallant soldiers were massacred 
with Custer and his command, none returning to tell 
the tale. 

From Fort Lyon we travelled through a part of 



208 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

the country we had never seen before to Fort Wal- 
lace, of which post we had heard frequently, and gen- 
erally disagreeably. 

A friend I had known well ■ at Fort Union, New 
Mexico, and for whom I had a most tender regard, 
died of cholera at Fort Wallace, while on her way to 
New York. The fearful disease broke out among 
the soldiers going East; she went about doing every- 
thing in her power to relieve the sick, until she be- 
came a victim herself, and died in a short time. She 
was the wife of Colonel Henry Bankhead, U.S.A., 
and a daughter of the late Bishop Wainright, of New 
York. 

Her heart was light when she left us at Fort Union 
at the prospect of so soon seeing her home and 
friends. In a few weeks came the news that she had 
died in a tent at (or not far from) Fort Wallace. 

So my ideas of the place were not pleasant, and 
were unchanged when we saw it. The kindness ex- 
tended to us by Major Butler and wife, of an infantry 
regiment, we cannot forget, they taking care of us all 
most hospitably. We were sorry that he and his 
family were obliged to live at such a dreary frontier 
post. 

When we left Fort Wallace we went as straight as 
we could travel to the end of the railroad, where we 
found a small settlement named after a big man, — 
Sheridan. The hotel was a good-sized weather-board 
shell, in which were two stories of stalls called 
" rooms." The partitions were only seven or eight 
feet high, and privacy was out of the question. Had 
" Peeping Tom" been there, he could have plied his 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 20g 

trade and satisfied his curiosity without any attempt 
at secrecy, the cracks in the boards being wide enough 
to admit the boldest stare. 

Our *' stall" was quite large, having two beds in it, 
but the supply of water for bathing purposes was 
extremely limited ; a quart pitcher would have held 
all which we found in the room, and which we used 
recklessly, calling loudly for " more water." We 
were told we could have no more until next day, the 
spring being a great distance from the house. As 
we were to leave the following; mornincr we wondered 
where the water was to come from for our early ab- 
lutions. It was soon made clear to us, if we were so 
very particular as to require water every day, we must 
use over again that which we were about to discard ; 
so I placed the basin with the soap-suds in it on the 
floor for safe-keeping. When retiring, I put my 
shoes and stockings not far away from the precious 
water. By some means it was upset, and the only 
foot-covering I had at hand was saturated. The 
colonel, having caused the disaster, meekly gathered 
everything up, repaired to the hotel parlor, and dried 
them before the fire, regardless of the assembled 
guests. It was useless in that house to try to do 
anything secretly. The sounds from bar-room and 
kitchen, not to mention odors, were distinctly audible 
and apparent in every part of the establishment, and 
an odd mixture of conversation reached us from the 
rooms around us. 

Dr. Alexander, U.S.A., and family were at the hotel 
that same night, — they on their way to New Mexico, 
we going East. 

l8* 



2IO / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

^What a pleasure it was to be on a train of cars and 
hear the conductor shout to the tardy ones, "All 
aboard !" and to feel ourselves rattling over the coun- 
try to Kansas City. We did not realize thafwhen 
we reached Sheridan the old army-life for us was 
ended. Had I known, I would have Hngered fondly 
about our last camp and have said good-by to the 
faithful, sturdy little mules that had brought us so 
safely over many weary miles. 

Our last long march began at Fort Selden, New 
Mexico, and ended at Sheridan, Kansas. We went 
East, fully expecting to return to the frontier in a few 
months, but it was not to be. 

At Kansas City we parted with our faithful Isaac, 
to the deep distress of the children. He secured a 
situation from the quartermaster at Fort Leavenworth, 
and passed out of our knowledge. 

Our daughter, whom we had left at school, waited 
anxiously for our arrival, and we were happy to be 
all together once more. 

As I mentioned before, we never returned to our 
old frontier life again. We have been in New Mexico, 
California, and Texas several times since, but only as 
visitors. Colonel Lane was retired from active ser- 
vice in 1870, to my great grief. 

It seemed impossible at the time that I could ever 
settle down to quiet, civilized, respectable life, and 
remain in the same place year after year. I had be- 
come so accustomed to change station every few 
months, I liked it, and was always ready and glad to 
go when an order came to move. We had never 
lived more than six months at one post, and three or 



I 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 211 

four in the same place gave us the feeling of old \f^- 
habitants. We made nine moves in eighteen months 
in New Mexico, and I did not object at all. I soon 
fell intb the habit of putting very few tacks in curtains 
and carpets, so that but little force was required to 
haul down one and pull up the other, and in a short 
time everything was packed and ready for a march. 

Such rapid preparations cannot be made now-a- 
days, nor is there any necessity for it, as there was 
years ago. Time is required to dismantle and break 
up the beautiful home even the youngest lieutenant 
now occupies. Professional packers are needed to 
insure the safe transportation of the lovely glass, 
china, and exquisite pictures found in so many army 
quarters to-day. Then, when everything is ready, it 
is stowed away in a freight-car, chartered most prob- 
ably by the said lieutenant at his own expense, to 
carry his " traps" to a new station. 

Army quarters are better, distance is annihilated 
by steam, transportation is excellent, even to remote 
stations ; but yet, with all these advantages and so- 
called modern improvements, are army officers and 
their families happier than those of thirty or more 
years ago ? I tell you, nay ! 

I was much impressed at the time of the late Sioux 
outbreak with the contrast between an old-time 
" scout" and the modern way of going to war with 
Indians. Our heroes mounted their horses and away 
they rode into the wilderness, to be gone for weeks or 
months, as the case might be, while all the news we 
had of them was brought by a guide or soldier, 
mounted on a swift horse, and who very often risked 



212 / MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

his life to bring news to the post. This mode of 
carrying despatches was called an " express." Im- 
agine the excitement when we heard ** an express" 
from the scout had arrived. We did not dare to 
think how long a time had elapsed since the man had 
left it with his letters, private and official, and what 
might be the fate of the party since his departure. 
i^AU this is changed now, and an 'Indian war is car- 
ried on differently. The troops and horses are loaded 
on steam-cars, howitzers and ammunition sent to 
" the front" in the same way, while the telegraph is 
in constant operation noting the arrival and departure 
of regiments, asking for supplies, and sending the 
news of the last brush with the enemy far and wide 
over the land. And, strangest of all, the ladies at one 
of the posts in Nebraska, by going to a village three 
miles away, could actually talk to their husbands, then 
at the seat of war, through the telephone! This 
seemed to bring the matter right into their own 
homes. It was something I could scarcely believe 
or understand, this fighting Indians with all the 
modern improvements, so different from the old slow 
way. And the savages, too, have changed somewhat 
their methods of warfare. 

The scions of the various tribes have been educated 
by the government and well drilled in military tactics 
at schools in the East, so that when they return to 
the tepees in the far West they are quite capable of 
teaching the ways of the white man to their fathers 
and brothers, and the proper and most advantageous 
use of their guns of newest pattern. 



/ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 213 



^>^- 



XXXIII 



Years have passed since the evejits in this simple 
history occurred; many more h^e been forgotten. 
No notes nor journal of muchamportance were ever 
kept of our wanderings, which in after-years we 
regretted exceedingly. In the roving life we led, 
travelling at least eight thousand miles in an ambu- 
lance, we saw much that was novel and interesting, 
had thrilling adventures frequently, but I cannot re- 
call them with sufficient distinctness to tell of them, 
and, besides, your patience must now be waning, after 
following me thus far in these reminiscences of old 
army days. 

My experience was that of hundreds of other 
women, many of whom are far more capable than I 
of telling the story; but few, if any, have done it, and 
only the younger ones, with no knowledge of ante- 
bellum days. 

Our daughters have followed in the footsteps of 
grandmother and mother, and married army officers, 
— cavalry officers. 

The relics of our " old army" days are few now ; 
but occasionally in unpacking our chests and trunks, 
stowed away in a garret, I find something that brings 
by-gone years vividly before me ; it may be a tarnished 
shoulder-strap, a spur, or a big knife in its leather 



214 ^ MARRIED A SOLDIER. 

sheath ; each has its history, and I dream while hold- 
ing them in my hand ; the lapse of time is forgotten. 
I am young again, wandering through the old familiar 
scenes. 

Not long ago I came across the battered tin box 
in which our daily luncheon was carried when trav- 
elling from camp to camp. The paint was worn off 
the top, reminding me of a hoary-headed veteran, 
'* grown gray in the service." 

As I raised the lid a faint odor seemed to rise 
from its depths, and in a second memory was busy 
with the past, travelling back to the old happy days 
when the little tired, hungry children with eager out- 
stretched hands stood by my side waiting to be 
served. With a sigh I closed the box, putting it 
aside as worthless, to be thrown away, but the tender 
recollections awakened by the sight of the old friend 
were too strong. Hurriedly seizing it, I cleared a 
comfortable corner in a chest and carefully replaced 
the worn-out box, retiring it, like an old soldier, from 
active service forever ! 

And, lest you weary of this o'er-true tale, I will 

" retire" too. 

1 



THE END. 



